


Blueberry Pancakes and Cellular Phones

by merrythoughts



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bisexual Tony Stark, Blow Jobs, Dating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Identity Reveal, M/M, Night Terrors, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Avengers (2012), Romance, Secret Identity, Sexual Tension, Smut, Sweet Steve Rogers, Tony Has Issues, Tony Is Getting Pretty Sweet Too, Top Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-01 12:14:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 58,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8624101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrythoughts/pseuds/merrythoughts
Summary: "But. Wednesday morning. 8AM. I'll be sober. And maybe you won't like me as much 'cause I'll be boring, then. And maybe we'll never speak again after that but, at least you'll get to have experienced Frankie's legendary blueberry pancakes, and I'll get you that phone." [Based on an AU prompt: "Steve Rogers falls for Tony Stark, and Tony falls for Steve, but Tony doesn't make the connection of Steve being Captain America for the longest time." Alternating PoV]





	1. Scrambled-Steve

**Author's Note:**

> Set pretty much right after Steve comes outta the ice (pre-Avengers) with Tony having no idea Cap was found. Shield doesn't unveil that Captain America has been de-Capsicled, and instead sets Steve up with his own apartment, a "cover story" of sorts of why he's a bit clueless and is giving him time to adjust. Will still probably require some suspension of disbelief, but hey, just go with the flow and enjoy the Stony trash x)
> 
> Co-written! I write Steve, "M" writes Tony; it's a personal RP we're choosing to share, so it's formatted in 'posts'. 
> 
> Comments & kudos happily received. 
> 
> Dedicating this work to the this awesome [individual](http://funeralshenanigans.tumblr.com/) who first got me into Stony.
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://merrythought.tumblr.com) :3 ♥

Steve Rogers tried to keep his daily routine fairly simple and straightforward. That's what the doctors had instructed him to do when he'd been physically cleared. It was the psychological domain that had to cope with learning that he'd been frozen for nearly seventy years, everyone he knew was dead (save for Peggy) and it was now the 21st century. Needless to say, it was a lot to take in, so the routine helped give some stability to his life.

He'd discovered Frankie's last week, a little hole in the wall type diner that was close to his apartment. It reminded him of the types places Bucky would drag him to after another failed double date. He liked it though, their savoury food and bitter strong coffee was a great way to start the day. Truthfully, the nostalgia probably made the food taste better than it was.

He strode in, 8:30 AM on the dot, and the waitress, a tired but pleasant dame named Tracy, beamed and waved him over to a clean table. "Mornin' Steve, you gonna get your usual or live dangerously today?" She threw him a wink. It was his fourth consecutive day and he was welcomed now as a regular which felt pretty swell.

Steve chuckled, removing his jacket before taking a seat. "No, nothing dangerous for me, you know that. Docs wouldn't like that one bit." Talking to women now, thankfully, went much easier than it had gone for him in the past. Then again, he knew he was smarting from realizing he'd never get to have that dance with a certain brunet. She'd had had a life, though - a marriage and family and a successful career too, so "losing" Peggy as a romantic interest was okay. It'd _be_ okay.

She scribbled down his order, poured him a cup of coffee then went on her way. Steve looked around the diner, noting it wasn't as busy as it had been on Sunday. Folks were working, he reasoned. On the table next to him, there was a man shoveling pancakes into his mouth that caught his eye. He had a familiar look... Howard? No. Howard was dead, Steve knew that. He blinked in confusion, staring until the man happened to notice. Flustered, Steve mumbled out an apology.

* * *

Only Tony Stark could turn a fundraiser for children affected by type 1 Diabetes into a blistering hangover.

Or at least, that’s what he told himself, in order to maintain some semblance of dignity as he sipped black coffee in his favorite corner of his favorite breakfast joint, poised next to his favorite window. That it was an accomplishment to turn raising $500,000.00 for a singular charity at a mock casino night into going pub crawling with two Porsche models and one of the city’s top lawyers; that it was fine to fall asleep next to a stranger, and kick her out of bed without breakfast at seven o’clock in the morning. He convinced himself that all of this was fine, just another quirk that made him who he was; another night to be scratched into the balance sheet of nights he wouldn’t remember.

Could barely remember. As he pushed blueberry pancakes around on his plate, he was trying to think of the woman’s name. Sarah- or Sally- but who the fuck would have named their kid _Sally_ at any point in the past decade- anyway, it didn’t matter. She’d had pretty eyes and, she’d staved off the feeling of loneliness that rested between Tony’s jaw and sternum, that left him choked up and miserable on most nights between approximately one-fifty-two and three-forty-seven-

He was knocked out of his thoughts as Tracy poured more coffee into his cup, glancing up at her from behind the rims of black Ray-Ban sunglasses. “Thanks, sweetheart,” Tony mumbled. He paid for his meals by sending a monthly check of a few grand to the diner. It might have been excessive, but, Tracy’s patience with him was worth more than the money he skimmed from the surface of an offshore account. He needed to change that. He was a better man now, or at least, he was working on it.

Working on becoming the type of man, internally, that mirrored the one that just walked through the door. He’d never be quite as tall, blonde, or strapping but, he could try to be that put together. That _wholesome._ The guy looked like a walking advertisement for a multivitamin, or protein powder, or a Christian online dating service; he had the jaw and the posture for it, certainly. He shoved pancakes in his mouth to keep his jaw from slackening. Staring was impolite, but little could be seen behind his shades, anyway. Maybe it was Drunk-Tony thinking for Sober-Tony, but the guy looked- familiar? In a weird way. Maybe he was a stock photo model.

Ah, that would make sense. He was All-American and attractive enough to do that. And- fuck- he was staring back, too.

Tony swallowed his pancakes, masking a dopey grin by wiping at his mouth with a napkin as a bit of a blush rose in Mr. Handsome’s face. _Alright then._

“In case you’re wondering, I charge $5.75 for pictures, with a 15% ‘nice tax’ on top of that if you want me to actually smile.”

Tony spoke up, breaking whatever ice there had been with some half-wit joke. He’d assumed Mr. Strapping Sunday here had recognized him as Tony Stark, or maybe even as Iron Man. That was a thing, now, too. He leaned back in the booth he was at, flashing him a toothy grin.

“But if you ask nicely, I just might do it for free.”

* * *

Steve wrapped his hands around the white mug of coffee, enjoying the warmth seep into his skin. Assuming no words would be exchanged, he looked down into the hot liquid, setting up to, unfortunately, brood, but then the man was apparently talking to him despite their somewhat rude introduction. New Yorkers weren't, in general, overly friendly so this in itself was kind of rare, but why shouldn't it happen at Frankie's if it were to? The staff had all certainly been friendly, so why not a few of the patrons too?

Except, this Howard-esque man (similar facial shape, Steve surmised, same confident cock-sure tone too) wasn't aiming for amicable small talk. A picture? Tax? This couldn't be a thing; it _had_ to be a joke. Confusion was evident on the blonde's face, eyebrows drawing in. And why was the man wearing sunglasses indoors? It wasn't common, Steve was certain because he hadn't, until now, witnessed it.

"Sorry, but I'm afraid I don't know why I would want a photograph of you...?" Steve gave a sheepish half-smile with the slightest shrug of his shoulders. He didn't want to offend the man. He _could_ perhaps be important, it _was_ possible (after all, just over a few weeks ago he'd been an icicle, case in point).

* * *

Tony pressed his sunglasses up further on his nose with the back of his hand, keeping his glasses pushed up on his face. It was too bright. Maybe that was his fault for sitting next to a window. Maybe it was his fault for drinking a bottle or two to himself. Whatever. He stuffed the rest of the pancake into his mouth, waiting for the man to either take him up on his offer or agree to perhaps ‘ask nicely’.

He wasn’t expecting him to not have any idea at all of who Tony was.

Brows quirking together, Tony blinked, wiping at his face. “Uhhh.” He flipped his sunglasses up, letting them get lost in the mess of hair he had. He had a mild degree of bedhead, thanks to not grabbing a shower before he’d left. He smelt like expensive bourbon, leather from the jacket he wore over a faded heather grey sweatshirt; musky but not unpleasant. His eyes were a little red, the bags under them speaking of his tiredness. He locked his gaze with Mr. Wheaties, blinking.

“Not to be rude, but-“ He hummed. “-Are you one of those fresh-off-the-colony Amish boys?” Tony asked, only half joking. It would explain the hair. It would explain his thick, could-lift-many-hay-bales arms.

By now, their little conversation had started to envelop half the diner. Out of politeness (or perhaps jealousy, because Tony didn’t feel like sharing attention from this newcomer with anyone else), Tony got up, moving to sit directly across from him. He drew his jacket closer around himself, subconsciously hiding the glow of the Arc reactor beneath his shirt from the other man. It was a visible weakness.

“Tony Stark. You know... billionaire, philanthropist, Iron Man.  I’m finding it extremely hard to believe you’ve never seen this face before. What kind of drugs are you on? Can I have them?”

Without much else to-do about it, Tony reached across the table, offering him a curt handshake.

* * *

It was evident that the other man seemed surprised to find Steve clueless about his identity. Oh, if only he knew that Steve had a rather long and growing list of things he was clueless about. This wasn't new to him. This, this right here is why sometimes he chose to stay hidden away in his apartment reading or just watching the television set because he wouldn't have to find himself in yet _another_ situation where he was dumbfounded by something and looking like a prized idiot.

Feeling a little self-conscious, he smoothed down the plaid button-down shirt over his chest, you know, just in case it got wrinkled in the last five minutes. The term “Amish boy” wasn't familiar with him either and Steve shifted in his seat, clearing his throat, out of his depth. Just the other day, after an unfortunate mishap, someone flat-out accused him of being a retard, and he hoped that "off-the-colony Amish" wasn't something similar.

The sunglasses finally being pushed up (maybe he did have some manners?), Steve noticed the red irritation and profound bags under the other man's eyes. A tired drunk. Not homeless, the man dressed too swanky to be destitute. Well, maybe that explained a few things.

Steve was further at a loss when the man came to join him at his table. Given how splendidly their interaction was going, he hadn't been expecting that. What was going on?

And then the introduction: _Tony Stark._ **_Stark_!** Something familiar, something from his past, something that pulled at his heart. Howard's... _son_ , most likely and Steve's face was softening - couldn't help but soften because this was Howard's legacy, sitting in front of him, and _that_ really did explain some things.

He probably had a stupid grin on his face as he shook Tony's hand, squeezing it once too. "Uhh, hi. Hello," Steve replied lamely. He scowled at himself, pulling his hand back and running it through soft blonde hair a little chagrined. "I'm Steve... Just to get this out of the way, I'm supposed to tell you that I'm recovering from a traumatic brain injury so if I seem a bit scrambled, it's because I am." He laughed softly at himself. It seemed ridiculous to give this kind of preamble with an introduction, but it was easier than describing the _truth._

* * *

Tony got settled across the table from him, managing a warm smile and a “thank you” to Tracy when she'd brought Tony's coffee over. He thanked her for the refill as well, contentedly drinking it. His face was gaunt, yes; he looked like he hadn't slept in years, but, that was partly true. Between night terrors and his inability to cease his obsession with tinkering (or fucking) enough to rest, he was lucky if he got much more than a few hours of shut-eye a night. Certainly it contributed to the wrinkles that crossed his face when he smiled, that reached out from the corners of his eyes. Despite all this- the wear, he might have called it- there was a certain, remarkable warmth to his eyes.

Even if his gaze was only warm because of how full of hot air he was. That still counted for something, right?

He drummed his fingers against the side of the coffee cup. Tony was a resting oxymoron. Despite the nice haircut and clothes, his nails were chewed down to the bed. Little signs told the story of a man much different than the person who was presented on billboards and media releases to the world. But he tried not to dwell too much on it; here was this frustratingly cute, though perhaps equally as dopey, blonde who-

Had a fucking _brain injury._

"Ah." Tony blinked, nodding. He knocked back the coffee mug, porcelain clinking against his teeth as he downed half the coffee. _Talk to me about trauma, baby, I can't lie on my back without feeling like I'm being waterboarded all over again-_ "I'm sorry to hear that." Tony spoke, shaking his head. But, despite it, Steve was grinning. A dweeby little grin. "That might explain why I haven't seen you here before, Steve-with-the-Scrambled-Brain." He hummed, letting the hand that had met his rest on the table.

"And, I mean, I'm sure you've got much more important things to try to remember besides _Stark Industries._ What happened, skiing accident? You must do something, I mean, with guns like that." He commented, nodding toward Steve's arms. Those goddamn arms.

* * *

Drinking his, thus far, untouched coffee would be a smart thing to do right about now. A smart _normal_ thing to do instead of grinning and staring at the man he hadn't recognized (but _did_ actually know, in a way). Tony was drinking his coffee all fine and normal person-like. So, Steve, getting on the ball, picked up the mug and took a sip. Coffee hadn't changed much, well, the regular stuff, but now there were entire shops dedicated to the coffee business. Mocha-latte-chinos and the like. His first week hitting the streets, Steve Rogers had quickly learned his lesson that Starbucks was not to be trifled with and had skulked away in defeat. And here he was at Frankie's, good 'ole Frankie's that didn't care if he ate the same thing every breakfast and now a Stark had appeared to boot. Fancy that.

He didn't know what to do about the apology nor with the... Good Lord, he hoped he hadn't just acquired the nickname "Steve-with-the-scrambled-brain." That would be awful, the worst really. Steve chuckled awkwardly and drank more coffee, just happy to be around Stark Jr. even if it was at his own expense. The apple surely didn't fall far from the tree in this case and he would take the teasing, would grin and bear it, because it at least was something that was recognizable.

"Motorcycle accident," Steve answered, smile slipping off his face. He didn't like lying, especially didn't like lying to Stark, but Shield had been adamant that he needed time to "process" everything. The world didn't need Captain America right now; his war had been won (although it looked like the world still had its fair share of _other_ wars raging). He hadn't even been able to see Peggy yet, his main doctor simply stating that they would discuss the issue at his next evaluation.

Tracy stopped by with his order: three eggs sunny-side up, three strips of bacon, two sausage links, two pieces of whole wheat toast and a small glass of orange juice. Breakfast never looked so good and manageable to Steve. "Thank-you Tracy, this all looks mighty fine," he beamed at her, meaning every word. She grinned back and left the two odd men alone. She dealt with enough through her shift, she didn't want to overhear nothin'.

Taking his fork and knife out, he began cutting up the food on his plate into appropriate bite-sized morsels. "I know it's rude to eat while we just started talkin', but you'll have to forgive me, I'm starving," Steve said. "And I do know the name Stark... Your Father was sure something." He smiled friendly and before taking a bit of sausage mixed with egg. A content "mmm" followed as he swallowed because he _still_ wasn't over how delicious the food was.

* * *

The staring was a little extra, but Tony didn't particularly mind. It was flattering, after all. Clearly, Steve was delighting in _something_ , and Tony only hoped it was the way the light hit rested upon his face and not  something like the possibility of stray pancake syrup resting in his beard.

His eyebrows shot up at the two words- motorcycle accident. "Damn." Tony whistled, rippling the surface of his coffee as he brought it to his lips. Tony believed him, of course. Hell, he had no doubt in Steve's _story_ , he simply held doubt in Steve's mere _existence_. The guy was damn near perfect and yet, here he was, eating breakfast alone at Frankie's of all places. "What do you drive? I'm more of a car guy, myself. I have shit balance." He shrugged. "Dropped on my head one too many times..." The words came out as a mumble, quickly washed down with more coffee.

He set the cup down as Tracy delivered Steve's food, greeting her with a simple "Thanks, honey". He was half tempted to pick up a fork himself. And- goddamn- Steve was so endearing. _Looks mighty fine._ Christ. Tony suppressed his amused smile, instead watching Steve's face as he spoke, admiring the movement of his lips as he smiled. He had perfect teeth. Not pseudo-perfect, like one's teeth were after braces; no, they were legitimately perfect. Like a doctor's office poster. Or, again, stock photo, amish boy-

Tony bit the inside of his cheek as Steve mentioned knowing of Howard. And things had been going so well! He gave a little nod, trying to suppress the wave of bitterness that rose in his chest. That was a habit. He'd never understood how Howard had loved him until this year. Until the reactor- until the video- until everything. Bitterness was the habit he'd learned to protect himself from his father's coldness, and he needed to learn to break it.

"Yeah?" He asked, almost vacantly as he attempted to find words that weren't sharp or scathing. "He was almost as smart as I am. Hell, he still teaches me shit from beyond the grave. It's almost annoying. I think I've taken the training wheels off, that I'm running everything myself and then, bam, Howard Stark is still one step ahead of me. Despite being in the ground for a couple of decades. Competitive asshole." Okay, that was mean. "Do you consider yourself a tech guy, Scrambled-Steve?" He hummed, slipping him a smile. There. Move the conversation away from that, for now. The last thing Tony needed to do was have a meltdown in fucking Frankie's, of all places.

To distract from his momentary slip-up, Tony picked up a spare fork, stealing a bit of Steve's egg. He popped it into his mouth, smirking a little as he did so.

"Sorry. Hungrier than I thought."

* * *

He was learning, as with Howard, that Tony liked to talk. A lot, in fact. Sure, he'd been asked the question about which motorcycle he drove, but the bedraggled man hadn't even offered him a chance to get in a word edgewise as his mouth kept moving to, of course, talk about himself. Like Father like Son. Steve didn't mind, not really. He'd always been more of a listener, if anything, because there could be so much more you could discover about someone if you really, truly listened and allowed yourself the time to wonder about the meaning underneath the words people chose to use.

The polite way Tony talked to Tracy also earned Stark Jr. some favourable points in Steve's book because treating people right, especially those who served you, was high up on his list. Too often people just brushed off those in the service industry, choosing to think that, for whatever reason, they were just _better_ . Steve, of course, living nearly all of his life as the little guy who'd been _constantly_ underestimated and treated as an eyesore even, was steadfast about never behaving like that.

He _knew_ how he looked, how, with the help of science he could never fully understand, he'd became the type of man that often got second and third glances and who wasn't often dismissed easily. It was unsettling, to say the least, but the procedure _had_ enabled him to make a difference - however brief - and do what was right. Doing what was right, back then, had been pretty straightforward. Now he found himself in a position where he wasn't _helping_ or doing anything productive. He had this lingering thought that Erskine would be disappointed in what he was (or wasn't, rather) doing now, but it was a notion he fought to not focus on.

Blue eyes did notice Tony's less than warm reception when he mentioned Howard... and wasn't that unsettling? It was a can of worms that Steve knew better than to try and open so early on. Because, he may not have had any goal other than to "get by" ten minutes ago, but he had one now - he'd befriend Tony, or at least try his damnedest too. He could get behind this, was even a little excited at the intriguing prospect of acquiring a friend that reminded himself of an enigmatic man long past. Steve was positive Howard would have wanted them to be friends anyway.

"Tech guy?" Steve repeated the words, lips curving downward a moment until he pieced it together - _technology_. And oh, "Scrambled-Steve," really? He'd ignore the nickname for now. "No, not at all, I'm afraid. I don't even have a cellular phone," he admitted. He was planning on getting one, however. Shield wanted him to have one, but Steve hadn't felt inclined to indulge them on that request just yet. He had a landline and payphones still existed. Who would he call or... text message (yeah, that was it) anyway?

One golden eyebrow arched at Tony's blatant food stealing. "The way you were devouring the pancakes, I wouldn't think you had ate in a week," Steve replied, but there was no heat to his words, just an easygoing smile. "It's good, though, yeah? I don't mind sharing." To illustrate his point, he slid the plate a little closer to Tony before taking another bite.

* * *

There was a bit of relief that warmed his fingertips once Steve let the topic of Howard drop. It wasn’t like Tony could resent his father anymore; not since he’d saved his life from the grave, and continued to keep him alive- thanks to the Arc reactor. There was concrete evidence now of Howard caring about him, even if it came in the form of a decades-old video clip, grainy and unoptimized. It was the most Tony had received from his father, save for the company and a massive inheritance, in his life. But some wounds ran deep; the scars of an absent, dismissive father were stubborn and resistant to Tony’s efforts to ‘move on’.

He put another packet of sugar into his half-cup of coffee, stirring it around with a butterknife instead of a spoon. He hadn’t noticed when he’d picked it up that it wasn’t a spoon- he guessed he wasn’t sober yet. He’d work harder on this. Forgiveness didn’t come easy for him.

His eyes glances across Steve’s thoughtful expression at the wording of Tony’s question, smiling to himself. And, ho boy, the wording of _cellular phone._ “Really? God, how do you live?” He teased. “Snapchat, Tinder, Uber... I mean, Google even. Texting. You’re missing out, buddy.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket; a very slight 6” piece of glass, completely clear. It appeared almost as if it were a piece of JARVIS, as it ran the same UI as Stark Tower did. “This is a Stark Industries prototype. I could hook you up with one, if you wanted.” He paused, looking up at him. “I could even program it for you, make it...” He glanced down at the screen, at the various gauges, notifications, and widgets that illuminated it. “... a bit more user-friendly.” He needed a new project. And giving-the-hot-blonde-snapchat seemed like a good enough one for him.

He took a drink of his coffee, blinking as the butterknife bonked him rather unceremoniously on the nose. He’d forgotten to take it out of the mug. Typical. Tony dropped it to the table, picking up his fork bashfully at the way Steve slid the plate forward. “I hadn’t eaten in.. hm... eight hours.” He spoke, taking a bit more sausage. “Frankie’s pancakes are a pretty damn good hangover cure, though they keep refusing my marketing ideas around that. “Pancakes so thick they’ll soak up your sins” wasn’t exactly something Frankie himself could get on board with, I guess.” He was careful to continue to leave the majority of the food for Steve; fuel for those muscles had to come from somewhere.

* * *

Steve watched with some amusement at his now breakfast companion utilizing a knife to stir his coffee. Most people wouldn't have gone through with it upon noticing they had grabbed the wrong cutlery, but Steve had a sneaking suspicion that Tony was going to be as quirky (or perhaps worse) than his father. And wasn't _that_ a thought? Learning about Howard's son, having the opportunity to get to know Tony.

"What, really?" Blue eyes widened almost comically at the offer. "You don't have to, please don't do it out of pity, I can afford one and I've been surviving this long without one..." Steve rambled, clearly gobsmacked by the generosity. He had, unfortunately, browsed a cellular phone shop and knew that the little doodads were rather pricey.  A "Stark Industries" prototype... well, he didn't want to even think about how much that was. However, it was the sentiment of "dumbing it down" that touched Steve, that Tony _wanted_ to _help_ him. Warmth bloomed in his chest and Steve had to look away, needed to take a moment to process feeling the swell of a positive emotion for a change.

When he felt more settled, Steve glanced back up and busied himself with taking another sip of coffee and getting back to eating. He was pleased to see Tony nab a few bites of the shared breakfast too. That had to be a good sign, right? He didn't know what he could really offer Tony in terms of friendship other than his company. Hopefully that would be enough.

He laughed at the slogan Stark shared. Yeah, he could see why Frankie had passed on it.. "Maybe I'll try 'em tomorrow. The pancakes, I mean," Steve chimed in after swallowing another delicious mouthful. After a beat, he added, "Say, I eat here every morning, would you be up for breakfast again sometime this week? You could even forgo the bender beforehand, come sober." The blonde winked, friendly smile on his face.

* * *

Tony couldn't help but smile at how goddamn _earnest_ Steve was. God, it was endearing. He caught the blush, as well, and found himself glancing down at the plate between them.

"It's not out of pity, Steve." He hummed, eyes flicking back up to meet the other man's gaze. "Hell, if anything, it's more like I'm trying to secure at least one buyer if it makes it to market." Tony grinned, leaning back a little in his seat. For someone with a personality like Tony's, he got this reaction a lot; people were taken aback when he was generous, despite his generosity being a well-known trait. In reality, Tony liked to craft things. It was one of the few things that calmed him down. Brought him close to needing sleep. "How about this- I'll build another prototype, load it up with apps I think you'll use, and show you how to use it. Does that sound fair? I can't leave you in this century without _something_ , man."

And- aw. "You have to go with the blueberry ones." Tony spoke, looking rather enthralled with the idea of them. His eyes, though tired, were warm and shiny. Technology and good food, two of his favorite things. "I mean, not like the other ones are bad, but..."

Tony blinked at Steve's interjection, and the sudden offer. Steve- Steve _wanted to see him again._ Tony had.. well, he hadn't really been expecting anything. For a minute, he was genuinely caught off guard. No one was this forward with him. Usually there was some degree of tension, or separation, that made it hard for others to connect to Tony. But Steve, no, he was barreling into this with no consideration for any sort of nervousness he might have had, if he had any.

"Well, Steve, I haven't been asked on a date in- six- seven years?" Tony exclaimed, breaking into a wide smile at what Steve said. "And people stopped asking because it became known that I only gave out 'No's..." He hummed, pushing Steve's eggs around on his plate. "And usually, I'm not charmed by someone who's so quick to criticizing my choice of extra-curricular activities so early on." He glanced up, giving him a playful scowl as he referenced Steve's comment about the bender. But I'm finding it very hard to turn you down. Even if you've got a gnarly goosebump, or actually do end up being Amish, by some weird twist of fate." He took another bite of egg.

"But. Wednesday morning. 8 AM. I'll be sober. And maybe you won't like me as much 'cause I'll be boring, then. And maybe we'll never speak again after that but, at least you'll get to have experienced Frankie's legendary blueberry pancakes, and I'll get you that phone."

* * *

Tony seemed serious about pushing the cellular device on him, talking about customizing it and _teaching_ him how to use it even. Steve felt a great surge of pride toward Howard because his friend had raised such a good and giving man. Sure, maybe Tony was a little rough around the edges seeing that he was _still drunk_ and it was nearly 9am on a Monday morning, but people had their reasons, had their stories, and he, for one, wanted to discover Tony's story. What made the man tick? What did Tony like other than cellphones, blueberry pancakes, coffee with one sugar and booze?

"Well, you've sold me on it, that all sounds real swell," Steve replied, pleased as punch, the crinkling by his eyes showing just _how_ touched he truly was. "Thanks,Tony." At least Shield could get off his back now that he'd be be even more integrated into the current century. His re-education, up until this point, consisted of using the powers of observation, heading to the library, watching the television and then inputting whatever words or phrases he was clueless about into the Google on his laptop. It was a digital age, he'd heard, but he still had a hard time imagining himself using the little handheld phone.

Wait a minute. A _date_ ? Well... Technically Tony was right, Steve had pretty much asked him out for a meal after sharing his _current_ one with the man. Within a few hours of walking around the streets of New York, Steve had very quickly learned that being homosexual was somewhat common. Upon a bit of research, most forward thinking folk considered it to be acceptable and normal in this day and age (he'd also discovered that interracial marriage was also a thing which was also great).

Tony was yammering on and Steve's head cocked to the side, trying to discern where he was going and what the answer would eventually be. He felt oddly nervous just waiting. He'd experienced plenty of rejection during his pre-serum days, but the girls back then at least been swift about it. But then Tony was giving him a time (Wednesday 8am) and... did he actually think he'd be boring and that they wouldn't talk after?

Steve shook his head, huffing in displeasure. "Don't talk like that, I'm sure I'll find you just as interesting, if not more so." He paused, letting the realization process a bit more before adding, "Okay. Wednesday. 8 AM."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am no brain expert (wow rly!?), but write Steve using a TBI (traumatic brain injury) as a cover of why he's a little confused/clueless about some stuff. From what little research I did, the symptoms are quite varied and I mean no disrespect to those who suffer from this.


	2. Creating Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How's yours? Should I try it tomorrow?" Because maybe his routine could use a little bit of shaking up, after all. If he couldn't jump out of planes or have his shield back in his hand, he might as well be receptive to what _was_ available. He took a chance on Tony (and the pancakes) and hadn't been disappointed in the least. He now had a cellular phone and had pictures to boot. Dating could probably be considered an adventure of the heart, right? So, Steve tacked on, "Feed me a piece" and promptly leaned over and opened his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Enjoy their fluffy date. :]  
> Co-written - I write Steve, "M" writes Tony.

_Steve hadn't objected to the wording. Date. He hadn't. He hadn't rejected that._

Tony couldn't stop thinking about it as he skittered about Stark Tower, for once putting some effort into how he looked this early in the morning. The band tee he'd slept in was replaced with a chardonnay button down, coupled with mustard colored pants. Contemporary. But casual. He didn't have a lot of 'casual' clothes; either it was a band shirt and worn jeans, or a suit.

But this morning- it mattered. It mattered so much that he matched his cologne to the scent of his shampoo, styled his hair, trimmed the beard. He wasn't red-eyed, though he still looked tired. That was unavoidable. He'd stayed up for a couple of nights working on Steve's phone, making sure it was perfect. Or, at the least, it would be as close to perfect as it could get.

He walked out of the Tower approximately forty minutes before eight, and was at the diner for seven-thirty. Of course that was excessively early, but... He was excessively nervous. To the degree of tapping his foot on the floor from where he sat, at a booth, in the back, waiting for tall, broad and handsome to step through the door.

He wasn't used to things mattering. He wasn't used to waking up sober. To _caring_ if Steve showed up or not _._ It was new, and it was a little scary.

And so, he waited; with nothing but a small, black box in front of him, tied with a bit of red ribbon. He didn't know what would be worse: if Steve didn't show up, or if Steve showed up and things went _well._

* * *

Of course the first thing Steve did upon reaching his apartment was type "Tony Stark" into Google. The search results went _crazy._ Blue eyes skimmed across the various headlines:

\- Stark parties with models and kingpin: _has Iron Man fallen into the wrong crowd?_  
_-_ Why is Tony Stark so unstable?  
_-_ Tony Stark unveils new defense systems research, but looks exhausted, is he on cocaine?  
\- Iron Man brings destruction while saving neighborhood: IS TONY STARK GETTING OUT OF HAND?  
\- I AM IRON MAN: hedonistic billionaire Tony Stark reveals he's inside the superhero suit  
\- She spills it all! A woman's steamy night with playboy Tony Stark

Of course, one hole lead to another and Steve had to type in "Iron Man" and the results were just as conflicting as his previous search. Hours were spent digesting the information, learning about Tony's captivity (not much was available on that, oddly enough), how, when he returned, Tony bravely steered Stark Industries away from being a major weapon's manufacture to something more _responsible,_ how he designed and built a _flying_ suit of armor and was now practically a superhero!  

It wasn't all good, naturally. Being in the public eye was never easy, especially given how everyone's cellular phones now had cameras just waiting to take a picture of the first exciting thing they came across. There were videos on the YouTube of Tony making a drunk fool of himself, showing off while in the metal suit, him with a gaggle of blondes on either side, him accepting awards, presenting awards... The list went on and on. Despite the harsh views some held of the great Tony Stark, aka Iron Man, Tony still _tried._

Alone in his apartment, hunched over his laptop, Steve Rogers knew, right then and there, that he _fancied_ this flawed man who valiantly aspired for _more._ To do _good._ No man was without his vices and Tony's own seemed to be drinking, partying and sex, apparently. Steve wasn't even all that worried about Tony primarily being pictured solely with women, because _he_ was the one who got the "Yes" for a date, he was the one getting a personalized _phone,_ thank you very much.

When Wednesday finally rolled around, he put on his nicest pair of dark slacks, a leather belt and a crisp royal blue button down shirt. Steve stopped by the flower shop and purchased a single orange rose. Earlier he'd looked up the meanings of various rose colors and decided that orange fit  this particular date the best (enthusiasm, desire and could be an expression of fascination). He didn't know if he was overstepping his bounds bringing flowers, but it's what he would have done for a dame back in the day and flower shops still existed. It was a date! Flowers should go along! It made sense to him.

It was fifteen minutes to eight when Steve strolled into Frankie's with the rose in hand. He immediately spotted a well dressed, well groomed and with his good vision, a completely sober looking Tony Stark. Yeah, he picked up his pace, hurrying over, smiling widely at the other man. "You beat me, thought I'd be here first," Steve stated and took his seat. "Here, this is for you, I hope..." He didn't know what else to say as he handed over the unique orange rose across the table to the other man, hoping for a positive response.

* * *

Tony accepted a cup of coffee from Tracy, stirring in one sugar pensively, watching the liquid swirl around his spoon. The mystery of all of this was new to him. One, he couldn't Google Steve. Any background check JARVIS attempted to perform wound up with nothing concrete- the name and the description wasn't anything notable enough to have a presence on the internet. Which seemed ridiculous to Tony, considering Steve was easily one of the most attractive people he'd ever seen. The other unknown was of course, not knowing if Steve would actually show up.

As a chronic user of technology, Tony wasn't used to not knowing if Steve was going to arrive. He couldn't text him and ask, or Facebook him and check and see if he was last online. No, this was like the eighties, and it was scaring the hell out of Tony.

He didn't think he could get any more anxious, but then Steve came through the door.

And he looked- so put together- so _starched_ and _proper_ that it almost made Tony gulp in apprehension. He was certainly glad that he hadn't worn jeans and a t-shirt. He subconsciously smoothed his chambray shirt over his chest, leaning back in the booth, trying to keep his shit together as Steve walked in. Had he always been so tall? And- fuck- he had flowers. Tony was used to being courted by unwanted nudes, not surprise flowers. He attempted to suppress his blush, instead smiling politely, laughing as Steve commented on how early Tony was.

"If we're getting competitive, I will win." Tony stated, giving him a playful shrug. Blinking as the rose was given to him, he took it in his hands, admiring it quietly for a second. "I, ah, thanks." He spoke, glancing up at Steve. "I didn't know they came in orange..."

Setting it next to him on the seat, he pushed the box across the table. "Open it up." He encouraged, resting back again once he'd pushed it over between Steve's hands. Inside the box was a glass phone similar to Tony's, though it was noticeably larger, made of a sturdier glass. It had a case around it as well.

"It's bigger 'cause, uh, you've got-" How did he say this without being weird about it? "-pretty big hands. And it's got military grade glass, shock absorbent case, cause I figure you do a lot of stuff. It might be able to survive a motorcycle fall." Tony teased. He reached over. guiding Steve's hands. "You turn it on with a button on the side, just press and hold-" Taking the opportunity for contact, he moved his thumb over Steve's, physically showing him how. It came to life quickly, booting up with a simple welcome screen, exclaiming _'WELCOME, TALL AND HANDSOME'._ Tony grinned to himself as it did so, glancing up at Steve's face.

"Play around with it for a bit. It's got an app to map out jogging patterns, fitness tracker, texting, cellular data..." He continued to rattle things off, unaware that it could be confusing to Steve. "Snapchat, a kick-ass camera on the back, a camera on the front for when you're feeling vain, a GPS- using Stark Industries satellites so you know Google won't be spying on you- Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and you know, the entirety of the Internet. So, what do you think?"

* * *

Being in the army and surrounded almost entirely with type A personalities, Steve was used to the competitive nature of men. He chuckled despite himself, settling into the seat and resting his hands in his lap. He, too, was a little apprehensive, hands clasped together tightly and thankful that he didn't need to hold the delicate rose any longer. Walking from the flower shop to Frankie's, he'd spent the entire time making sure he held the gift as gently as possible. For Steve, he'd just been in the throes of a rough and tumble _war,_ throwing his shield at Hydra goons and punching his away out of messes. The contrast to his current life was still off-putting; instead of gunfire and smoke, Steve now found himself immersed in taxi's honking and the hustle and bustle of New York with its fast moving and fast talking people.  

And here he was, this Wednesday morning, playing at being completely average and going on a date with man like it was nothin' when it really was _somethin'._ A big something. A big something that involved Howard's _son._

"You're welcome, I didn't know if it would be too forward--" Steve began, but then a box was being slid over to him and he stopped, eyes brightening. The phone! Tony had came through and actually done it. He wasted no time in pulling at the ribbon and unboxing his present.  A grin broke out on blonde's face as Tony, quite literally, showed him how to operate the sleek piece of _tech,_ a smaller hand directing his own fingers.

The screen illuminated and the words _'WELCOME, TALL AND HANDSOME'_ greeted him. Steve guffawed, equal parts charmed and embarrassed by it. "I have a name ya know," he said, but it was under his breath, not interested in making his point. He eyed all the little icons - apps, his mind corrected - with mild curiosity, but he didn't know where to even begin, index finger hovering over the screen.

"I... Wow... Thanks... It's certainly something," he stammered in reply. Before he could say anything else on the matter, Tracy appeared next to their table filling a mug up for Steve and wearing an inquisitive expression on her face as she looked between the two men. She hadn't been expecting to see the pair of them together again, but hey, apparently they had hit it off and wasn't that kind of cute?

"Morning hun, your usual, Steve?"

"Not today, Trace. According to this guy here--" he grinned broadly, pointing a finger at Tony. "--your blueberry pancakes are a thing I gotta try. So, I'll have that." See? He could do different.

Eyebrows initially rose in surprise before she smirked, throwing Tony a look that Steve didn't quite get. When both of their orders had been taken and they were alone, Steve's finger tapped at the Camera app on the screen. "We can take a picture together, yeah? I see people doing that all the time and I guess it's fine time that I start creating some memories." Assuming it would be okay, he shuffled out from his row, leaving his coat behind and joining Tony on his side of the booth. "You show me, set it up or whatever," Steve instructed, a slight pink coloring his cheeks because he figured that taking a picture had to rank pretty low on the difficulty scale of using a cellular phone, but he sure as Hell didn't want to be fumbling it up.

* * *

Tony broke into a smile as soon as Steve did, his laugh causing a bit of heat to flare into his cheeks. Steve didn't seemed scared by it, which was a start. Tony had 'dumbed down' the UI a fair bit, making the icons more noticeable, the text a little bigger. It still looked sleek (daresay _sexy_ ), but the screen had notably less widgets and apps than Tony's phone. It seemed to be more manageable- less overwhelming, surely. Despite how slight it was, Tony caught the mutter under Steve's breath, chuckling quietly to himself. "Still, it's just as accurate." Overt flirtation. It had been a while since he was his nervous about it.

Humming, Tony sat back a little as Tracy came to their table, giving her a polite smile. "And I'll, ah, get french toast and fruit salad. With extra powdered sugar, please." He smiled, giving her a 'thank you' once she'd written it down. "Glad you're taking my advice seriously. You won't regret it." He hummed, glancing over Steve's face.

Before he could start an inaugural round of footsies, Steve was talking again, and Tony was blushing again. It was a nice little pattern, one he didn't mind repeating. "I charge for that, remember?" Tony teased, glancing up at him as he came to sit next to him.

Steve was so close to him- and Tony felt practically _elementary_ in how much that made his head spin. "But for you, I guess I'll waive the fee. And any additional taxes." He smiled, glancing over at him. He took the phone in his hands, glancing over at him. The gesture was unbelievably sweet. _Creating some memories._ God. For once, Tony was finding himself okay with this slow burn. He liked this; the banter and their actions. Strangely, he was left wanting more, instead of being bored. "You press this to flip it around..." He explained, pressing the button that made the camera rotate. "... and get an awesome shot of your chins." Laughing, he raised the phone, away from the unflattering angle.

"Okay we both have to look at the lens, or else we'll look like dorks. Ready?" Tony scooted closer to him, acutely aware of how close they were to one another. He pressed the side of his body against Steve's, breaking into an easy smile as he stared at the lens. "And- there." He hummed, passing the phone back to him. "A moment in time. Or a new picture to tape on your ceiling. Whatever you want to do with it." Tony mused, giving him a wink. "Did you ride your motorcycle here?"

* * *

"Ooo, lucky me," Steve quips back in response to getting a free "deal" on the picture. He had, momentarily, forgotten he was out with a celebrity of sorts who was probably all too accustomed to receiving demands such as these. Hopefully he wasn't coming across like a pushy fan, that was definitely not what Steve wanted.

He did, honestly, try to pay attention to Tony's explanation of how to set the phone up for the selfie thing they were attempting to take. Well, was it even a "selfie" if you weren't alone in the photograph? Steve could ask for clarification, but it hardly seemed important to bring up. Instead, he was keenly aware and caught up in how _good_ Tony smelled - was it cologne, maybe his aftershave, both? Whatever it was, he liked it. When their image was displayed on the not-so-tiny screen, Steve broke out into a cheerful smile, tilted his head toward the other man's, and with a tap of Tony's thumb, the moment was captured. "Nice. Thanks for that, it means a lot to me."

Now that that was done, did the blonde want to move back and take his seat opposite Tony? Not really actually, even though it would probably be easier to talk and later eat from across the table rather than right next to each other, but Steve was enjoying the close proximity. He could always relocate himself when their breakfast came - yes, that would work.

"You kidding me? Docs wouldn't allow me on a 'bike... so close to the accident," Steve answered, with some strain in his voice. He seemed to recover quickly then continued, "I live nearby, 'bout a fifteen minute walk." Steve picked up the phone, angling it away from Tony, and successfully flipped the camera direction around so he was looking at his date instead of himself. "Since I'm getting them for free. I'll need another one," he explained before proceeding to snap a photo of _just_ Tony. "It's not every day I manage to go on a date with a hero."

* * *

Tony had been the one to demand that they look at the lens, but the second the photo was taken, he was staring at Steve's smile. "Nice indeed." He agreed, blinking as he glanced away from Steve's expression momentarily. He wasn't moving away. Tony wasn't going to complain. Instead, he pressed the side of his thigh against Steve's, nonchalantly picking up his coffee cup and taking a sip of it.

"Right." He breathed, exhaling once he'd downed a quarter of a cup. "I'm kind of shit about listening to doctors, so it always surprises me when people actually do." Tony mused, glancing up at him. He nodded as Steve explained where he lived, paying no mind to him picking up the phone again. "It'll organize your photos by geotag and facial recognition- so, where you took it, and who the picture's of. It's pretty damn smart." Tony's voice was soft as he spoke, though it held an edge of excitement. He liked showing off his creations; especially when they were somewhat useful, and not million-dollar weapons or defense systems.

He was about to talk about the phone's messaging features when Steve was taking another picture of him. He was mid-word, mouth hanging open, holding the coffee cup between his hands. "I--" He blinked, looking over at him. "Oh God, I'm sure I looked like a trash can. Can you do a retake?" Tony asked, setting aside the compliment for now. He posed for him, holding the coffee cup 'nicely', giving him a broad smile. "There." He spoke, the word muffled by his gritted teeth.

"You're hoarding 'the goods', man." Tony teased, bumping his knee against Steve's as he set the coffee cup down. He placed a spoon in the mug and stirred, avoiding Steve's gaze as he recalled what Steve had called him. _Hero._ "I don't know if I'd call myself that. More like, some guy with too much money and a lot of mistakes to make up for." Glancing up, he met Steve's gaze again, mouth set into a bit of a line as he thought. "I'm just- trying to-" _Be a better man? That was so corny. Help people? Too emotional._ "... be useful, instead of destructive, I guess. Thank you, though."

* * *

Steve noticed the not so inconspicuous touch - Tony's thigh pressing into his - and it was nice, it was actually more than nice. Someone, no - Tony Stark - clearly was interested in _him._ Him as a normal civilian named Steve and _not,_ for once, Captain America. There had only ever been a few select people (Bucky, Peggy, Erskine) other than his Ma, who he _knew_ , without a doubt, liked what was inside of him... who _saw_ more than a pretty package or a resource to be exploited. He hoped he would be able to add Tony to the list.

Steve had no clue about the tagging or recognition or whatever the other man was going on about, but he could tell that Tony was enthusiastic about it, so, in turn, Steve was too. He remembered what it was like to talk about his art to those who didn't quite _get it,_ stuck in his own world, but wanting and trying to show a glimpse of it - of himself -  to another. He'd never be the type to dismiss another person's passions like he's had sometimes been in the past.

"A trash can?" Steve chuckled, but shook his head because he didn't see the resemblance at all. "A good lookin' trash can, if I've ever saw one then." But he humoured Tony (he also remembered the dread of bad photographs and back then there weren't no retakes) and snapped another, this time with the man being fully aware and posing. Steve tapped on the Album icon in the corner (see, he _could_ learn) and selected his earlier impromptu photo of Tony. Yes, he liked that one better, more natural.

He set the phone down and swapped it for his cup of coffee, taking a slow long sip and sighing from the warmth that filled him. Steve considered Tony's words, choosing to think on them a moment. It was apparent to that the brunet thought very little of his positive contributions, or at least weighed his past much more heavily. Living in the past could destroy a man. "Not everyone would have the guts to do what you did - and _do now -_ _Tony_ ," Steve finally replied, voice serious because this was important to him. "I think what you _do_ is heroic. You could have taken so many other paths after what happened to you... over there. And you came back and chose a _better one._ Not just for yourself, but for your company too. That couldn't have been easy - didn't look easy from what I all read - and I barely understood half of it. Of course you don't make it easy on yourself with some of your more... colourful behaviour..." Steve stopped himself, realising he had went on a sermon of sorts. He blushed a little and took another drink of coffee.

* * *

Tony kept his leg pressed against Steve’s, if only because he was too lazy to move it back- or that was an excuse he’d use, if asked. “A good lookin’ trash can, eh?” Tony hummed, giving him an easy smirk of approval. “You sure are smooth with your words, Steve.”

Once Steve had set the phone down, Tony picked it up, turning the camera back on. He turned the self-facing camera back on, taking a quick selfie, though the focus was mostly on Steve drinking his coffee. “Most attractive Amish man in New York drinks coffee at Frankie’s. Where did he come from? Why didn’t I meet him before Monday? More at six.” Tony narrated, taking a couple more photos, obnoxiously zooming in on Steve’s face as he did so. He was laughing to himself- for whatever reason, ultra-zoomed-in-facial-photos were the epitome of Tony’s sense of humor.

He set the phone back down once Steve started speaking again, looking over at him. He began to stir his coffee again- nervous habit, perhaps- as he listened to Steve speak. His mouth went a little dry as the lecture was delivered, brows pulling together in thought. It was hard for him to listen to the pomp and circumstance. The whole thing- the suit, the reactor, everything- had come from a place of survival. It hadn’t been out of justice, or personal virtue. It had been triggered by the need to stay alive. And now, _staying alive_ had been molded into what his life was now; the suit, the reputation, the overcompensation. The first notion was to stop manufacturing weapons. The rest had been fate, a chain reaction, a domino effect from meeting Yinsen, to Obie’s attempt to kill him, to the unveiling of his identity. Heroes had a drive, a compass, something that set them on their path. Tony had coincidence and money.

Too withdrawn into his own thoughts, Tony hadn’t realized Steve had stopped speaking until he noticed the silence. He blinked a couple of times, looking over at him, swallowing over the tightness in his chest. He had that thought again- one of his hands moved to daftly scratch at the reactor in his chest, glowing softly through the fabric of his shirt. He wasn’t over what Obie had done. He couldn’t get the feeling of being that close to death out of his head.

“S-Sorry.” He stammered, glancing at Steve, then at his coffee. He picked it up, buying himself some time as he drank it. “It’s, ah, it’s been a lot to get used to. Not fame exactly but- the whole- _hero_ thing. I don’t know. I just think of it like I’m doing what any other sane, rational person with billions of dollars and libraries of weaponry research and development would do in the situations I’ve been in.” His fingertips began to tap the edge of the glass. “Okay, maybe not rational or sane, all the time, but-“

Tony shook his head, putting the mug down.

“I.. appreciate you thinking that highly of me, Steve.” He bit the inside of his cheek, exhaling. He didn’t want to get into this, not too heavily, not right now. He didn’t want to scare Steve away. And so, he simply bumped his knee against Steve’s again, muttering in response to Steve’s comment about his behavior; “I’m sorry I’m not a saint like you, Mr-American-Dream. Not all of us can be tall, strapping blondes with an unwavering moral compass and _great_ damn hair.” He laughed, biting his tongue at the corner of his mouth playfully. “But seriously, where _did_ you come from? Some little farm in Arkansas? It’s hard not to picture you having a picturesque upbringing. Honest maw’ n’ paw’ and all that crap.”

* * *

Flirting had never been his thing, Steve could admit that. Calling Tony a good looking trashcan, sadly, wasn't his worst blunder nor would would it be his last. Thankfully, his date seemed more interested in rambling about the Amish thing again (he planned on asking if it came up at a later point). He detected sarcasm, but he was learning that not everything Tony said necessarily warranted a response - the man loved to talk, so Steve would do his best to listen and hopefully not be too confused by all the references he'd surely miss.

As ingenious and handy as the flipping camera was, it was also a tad annoying because Steve didn't know if Tony was taking a picture of him or not. Fair was fair, so he didn't really stress about it. He'd find out later when going through the album - it'd be a surprise to see what the other man left for him.

And boy could Steve relate to the sentiment of being overwhelmed by one's own choices and how many things could change from one single life-altering decision. He still had dreams where he was a skinny thing again, sometimes in Brooklyn, other times out in the field wandering around aimlessly, lungs screaming in protest as he tried to push his body against the elements. He'd often wake in a panic, hands feeling over his body just to make sure. After all, Steve Rogers had spent most of his life small, his current physical self was what he was born into.

The topic at hand was obviously making Tony uncomfortable from the far gone look the other man had been wearing a moment ago to his fidgeting. Steve felt guilt slide in and he shifted a little closer to the smaller man. Should he put an arm around him, or would that be moving too quickly? Maybe Tony didn't like being comforted - some men were like that - but Tony had initiated their thighs being pressed up against one another's, so Steve didn't think that was the case.

But then Tony was moving the conversation to a different trajectory without any help from Steve... and the new direction involved cracking jokes at _Steve's_ expense. "Hey, there's more to me than my height and hair," Steve chuckled, abashed, but somehow he forced himself to not look away. At the probing into his past, he halted a moment to try and remember the specific details of his cover. "No. M-Montana, actually. I grew up outside of Shelby, Montana." Lying left a bad taste in his mouth so Steve gulped down more coffee before continuing. "And no, it _wasn't_ perfect. I was raised by a single mother who was stuck with a son who was constantly sick when he was younger." So, he'd sprinkle the the truth in, Steve decided, just the important bits. "She died when I was eighteen... I joined the Army for a bit, but I'd prefer not to talk about that part of my life." He gave a casual shrug. "Then I came back and wanted to hit the big city, but the city hit back and I got into the accident, and here we are."

* * *

Tony didn’t mind when Steve moved even closer to him, though it was beginning to become apparent just how much _bigger_ Steve was. It wasn’t like Tony wasn’t fit; his body was lean and toned, save for a bit of softness around his stomach, and maybe some on his thighs and backside. But Steve was absolutely ripped, and it was almost intimidating. His eyes glanced down to the sleeves of his shirt, pondering for a moment how exactly he managed to keep his sleeves from ripping with that much girth to his arms.

“I know. I’m sure of it.”

The words came as a quiet, sincere response to what Steve said about there being more to him than his appearance. That was becoming more and more apparent. Steve was.. charming, and honest, and markedly open with Tony. He didn’t seem to be intimidated by him, and he didn’t seem to look at Tony any differently, based upon who he was. It was endearing, astoundingly different than many he’d met recently. He drank his coffee as Steve spoke, listening to every word he said.

Though he hadn’t necessarily been tense before, Tony seemed to loosen a bit when Steve mentioned he’d been in the military. And, that he didn’t want to discuss it. There was a type of comradery Tony found in the company of veterans, even though he’d never been a soldier himself; he felt connected, somehow, through the own horrors he’d experienced. He hadn’t always felt that way. He glanced down at Steve’s hands, tempted to reach across and take one, but he didn’t. Not now.

“Well.. shit. Sorry for assuming it was a Thomas Kinkade painting.” He spoke, glancing up as Tracy came by with their food. She set the plates down, serving Steve before he could move. Well, that solved the problem of Steve leaving. Maybe it was a little weird to sit side-by-side, but the two were already a sight. Other diners had been shooting them passive glances throughout the duration of their stay- mostly, questioning why Tony Stark was shoulder-to-shoulder with someone like Steve.

He thanked Tracy as she left, picking up his cutlery. “And I know you don’t want to talk about it, but for what it’s worth, I appreciate your service. It’s hard, and...” He paused. “It’s a bigger sacrifice than most people can fathom.”

With that, he began to cut his French toast into little squares, piling them up on his fork. He waited for Steve to take a forkful of pancake, smiling at him softly. “Let me know what you think.” He spoke, before popping his own breakfast into his mouth.

* * *

Knowing that it'd just make more of a scene to move as his plate was set down, Steve decided on staying put. Who cared if it was a bit odd? 'Odd' fit the two of them like a glove didn't it? Hearing Tony's appreciation and acknowledgement of his military experience moved Steve. Not that the blonde particularly wanted praise for his services, because that had _never_ been the reason he had attempted to enlist four times. He would have been remiss to not mention it, though. Other than his seemingly miraculous transformation, being a soldier had had the largest impact on his life. "Well, thanks, guess it's my turn to take a compliment," he replied with a wry quirk of his lips. Turned out they had that in common - both not being the best at receiving compliments.

He reached for the container of syrup and slowly squeezed, creating a bit of an intricate design of golden goodness on the mound of fluffy pancakes. As satisfied as he could be about his spontaneous syrup art, he grabbed his fork and knife and helped himself to Frankie's infamous blueberry pancakes.

"You weren't lyin', these are fantastic," Steve enthused after he swallowed, licking at some of the sticky sweetness that had been left behind on his lips. Little was said on his part as made quick work of eating the pancakes. It was a bad habit Steve still sometimes fell into it - the speedy devouring of food set before him - all too used to having to eat in a hurry and that needs of a demanding metabolism.

"How's yours? Should I try it tomorrow?" Because maybe his routine could use a little bit of shaking up, after all. If he couldn't jump out of planes or have his shield back in his hand, he might as well be receptive to what _was_ available. He took a chance on Tony (and the pancakes) and hadn't been disappointed in the least. He now had a cellular phone and had pictures to boot. Dating could probably be considered an adventure of the heart, right? So, Steve tacked on, "Feed me a piece" and promptly leaned over and opened his mouth.

* * *

The brunette tapped his foot absentmindedly as they ate. He was a fidgety person; full of a sort of restless energy that was both a sort of strength and a bane. He watched Steve eat his pancakes- rather quickly- hell, impressively quickly. “Goddamn, boy.” Tony muttered, playfully teasing him as the pancakes on his plate continued to rapidly disappear. He supposed it made sense. Steve was _huge,_ and surely that took a lot to maintain.

Tony was only finished one slice and a bit of his fruit salad when Steve spoke up regarding tomorrow. Chuckling to himself, Tony gave him a closed-lipped smile as he chewed. “Really good,” He mumbled. “You sure come here an awful lot. I hope you’re not sitting and having breakfast with other strangers, but I mean, I’m sure if I asked Tracy about it she’d be straight with me..” He grinned, knocking their legs together. He’d join him again, if that didn’t have the possibility of being creepy or overbearing; maybe he’d surprise him back, show up one morning with another gadget. A smart watch. He could make that overnight.

Smiling to himself in daft pleasure at the idea of his plan, Tony blinked over at him at the sudden demand. _Well, fuck._ He looked a little bashful as he scooped up some of the French toast- there Steve was again, making Tony Stark blush- but he quietly indulged him. He was careful not to knock his perfect teeth with the fork, though he did manage to smear a little bit of powdered sugar over his lip. In a move that took a surprising amount of courage for him to muster, Tony quickly wiped it away, running his thumb over Steve’s lower lip.

For whatever reason, Steve was making him a little less forward. By now, if he were someone else, he probably would have already bedded him. And yet, there they were, exchanging gifts and sitting together and practically playing footsies and Tony was remarkably _fine with this_ \- more than fine, actually- he was grinning to himself and keeping an eye on Steve to catch a reaction to his affection.

“Do you think it’s alright?” He asked smoothly, taking the rest of the fruit salad and pouring it over the last slice of French Toast. He moved Steve’s empty plate out of the way, before cutting the slice in half with the edge of his fork in a rather unrefined manner. He pushed it over a little on the plate, signalling that it was for Steve. “Here. For eating half your breakfast the other day.” He hummed. “Maybe we should stop ordering separately altogether.”

* * *

At the possible implication of him meeting with others at Frankie's, Steve shook his head. "Starting about a week ago, I've came here every morning and you're the only person that I've ate with." He felt it was important to be honest with Tony about this sort of thing because he didn't like the idea of anything taking away from what they were doing - because this _meant_ something to Steve.

It should have been stranger to have another man feed him, but it actually wasn't. Tony took great care in delivering the sample of french toast to his mouth. Steve gave a content 'mmm' as his taste buds also delighted in this sweet treat. His lips parted when Tony's thumb swiped over his bottom one, the touch surprisingly intimate, but over all too quick.

Not that he had a lot of previous history to compare it to, but Steve thought the date was going remarkably well. At first glance they probably didn't look like they had much in common - Tony being considerably older than him in the physical sense, a technical whiz and more than a little self-indulgent, but there was more to him than what was splashed on headlines, this Steve was sure of.

"More than alright, very tasty," wide boyish smile formed on his face, eyes light up because, coming from a time during rations and war food, the blonde was enthralled by 21st century food. "Well, if you insist," he said as Tony's plate was slid on over, a part of the food portioned for him. They were _readily_ sharing food now and Steve was touched. After a sip of coffee he ate the french toast offering more slowly, savouring every bite.

"Tony, would it be too forward to ask you on another date?" There. He had manned up and asked the question that had  been on his mind for the last ten minutes. Not knowing what else to do, Steve cupped Tony's face briefly before pulling his hand away, but he regretted that he hadn't held it there longer.

* * *

He was smiling, still. And it was odd to him. Tony wasn't exactly a smiley guy. He wasn't a grump, either, but rarely did someone prompt him to have his lips upturned in such a permanent manner. It nearly made him nervous. But Steve had been striking the right chords with him; be it from his overly honest admission that Steve had no interest in sharing breakfast with anyone else, or the way he didn't mind the soft touch on his mouth, or the way Steve smiled at him- it was hard _not_ to smile back.

"Good, I'm glad." He spoke simply, in response to Steve's affirmation that the pancakes were good. "If you thought they were shitty, I would have been disappointed in myself." _Tasty._ It was such a stupidly sweet way to describe something. He ate his half of the the french toast contentedly, not minding the comfortable silence that rested between them.

Until it was broken, by yet again, something that he thought was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard spoken to him.

Tony glanced at him, giving him a sideways smile. He attempted to hide how both pleased and amused he was by the question, lips set into a close-lipped grin that revealed his secrets. And- when he'd turned to him- Steve's hand was suddenly on his face, and-

"Your hands are fucking _huge._ "

Okay, it was a nervous outburst. Tony's cheeks flared in embarrassment. But it was the truth; Steve's palm readily held what could more be described as the side of Tony's face than his cheek.

"S-sorry just an, ah, observation."

_Fuck. Get on your game._

Picking up his mug of coffee, Tony took a quick sip to attempt to get himself to calm down. "No. No, that's not forward at all, I mean, I did just give you a phone with my number as the default recipient when you go to compose a new text so-" Tony took a quick breath. Steve had gotten him so damn flustered; from his hands to those eyes to that soft spoken, gentle way of asking him, The concern in his voice was so different. Steve wasn't demanding to see him. He was asking, and in Tony's world, asking was a rare thing.

"So- yes. Absolutely, I'd.. I'd really like to go out with you again, if you'd like to, too."

* * *

Huge hands? That wasn't the response Steve had been hoping for. Confused he glanced down at the extremities, turning them over and observing. To Steve his hands seemed _normal_ to him, or at least appropriately sized for him, but on second thought, compared to Tony, Steve was indeed much bigger.

"I don't know if I'd say huge..." Steve mumbled, shoulder shrugging up. His proposition seemed to fluster the other man and it was absolutely endearing. Normally he _was_ the one getting embarrassed, so this was a nice welcomed change, for once. Witnessing Tony blush and fumble, Steve's eyes softened and he waited patiently for the other man to get his thoughts collected and come up with an answer. He had always hated people butting in when he was floundering and he assumed Tony would be the same.

When he finally _did_ receive a yes, Steve broke out into a wide grin, elated. Tony's last sentiment didn't go unnoticed and he couldn't help but sass back, "I thought that was implied with me asking you in the first place. Wouldn't have asked if I wasn't interested, sheesh." He let out a soft sigh, caught up in the moment, and he leaned forward, closing the distance between them, and pressing a chaste kiss to Tony's cheek.

* * *

Huge hands. God.

Tony was prone to awkward outbursts when his brain decided to simply chug along instead of work properly. It wasn't the most flattering part of him, but he assumed it was a coping mechanism of sorts. He wasn't used to being caught off guard, so when he was, it genuinely threw his train of thought off its tracks.

"It's not a bad thing," He explained, giving Steve a bashful smile. "In fact, kinda the opposite..." The smile turned into a smirk as he continued, but he didn't let that linger for too long.

And now Steve was sassing him. "H-Hey." He muttered, brows drawing together in false offense. Though he didn't get the opportunity to finish his thought; Steve was drawing in, and Tony, stunned, half opened his mouth, expecting, at any moment-

Well, he hadn't quite been expecting that. But it was still lovely.

His cheeks flared, and he cautiously turned his head to leave an equally light, sweet kiss on Steve's cheek in return. The warmth from his cheeks swept down his neck, and for a moment he was completely content in being this close to Steve, despite being at Frankie's of all places.

The second felt over before it began, and soon enough, they were pulling away from one another; and Tony was smiling like a dingus yet again, eyes crinkling as he did so. "Okay. Sorry for doubting you, I, ah, yeah."


	3. You'd Be Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Babe_ seemed to work. Tony moved his arms up, holding Steve back, lacing his arms around his shoulders and pulling himself up a little, pressing their chests together. "Does that make you happy?" He asked softly. "You're going to have to explain to me what that means, but if it means I'm yours, I'll sign whatever dotted line you want me to..." He trailed off as Steve's hand moved into his hair, holding him still. He strained against that hand a little, if only to feel the sweet restraint that Steve's fingers entwined in his locks offered him. He kissed him back, wanting to deepen it, wanting to intensify it, but for now- "You're also going to have to show me how to 'be sweet'." Tony breathed, breaking their lips to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're trash and we apologize for nothing. ;)  
> Co-written; I write Steve, "M" writes Tony. ♥  
> Anyone guess what Steve's kink is?  
> The song they dance to: [listen here!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2w5KNm1LQ78)

Turned out Steve no longer had to eat breakfast on his own because Tony, after their next date (which had been the following day, same time, same place) continued to show up and didn't seem to mind taking part in the routine. On the second date the enigmatic brunet had presented him with a "smart watch" which seemed bizarre, but he wore it proudly and cherished it because it was a gift from the other man.

So, Steve couldn't have been more pleased by sitting next to Tony each morning. He continued to 'live dangerously' and try new things - a breakfast bagel, waffles, a Mexican omelette - and most of the time they just ended up sharing to his delight.  Steve also made sure to chronicle their dates, taking a few selfies, his phone album growing and mostly dominated by pictures of Tony or Tony and himself.

It had now been a week since they had first met, but when today's breakfast had been paid for (Tony had refused to even let him pay for half) Steve had invited the other man for a walk and to see his apartment. It was a lovely morning, the sun out, a little breezy, but that hardly mattered when he was walking in tandem with his date and feeling on top of the world.

Feeling bold, Steve reached out and took Tony's hand in his own, stopping abruptly so they would have to face each other. "You don't mind, do you?" He smiled, assuming this 'progression' was fine, but needing to check in. He didn't know if Tony was alright with holding his hand in public, after all.

* * *

Tony liked the little routine they’d come up with. He settled easily enough into it; it was a welcome change of pace from his old routine, which had been nothing other than laying about in his bed until it was time for him to leave Stark Tower for the day. Certainly, interactions with Steve were far more engaging, and far more beneficial to his day. He enjoyed their easy conversations, how Steve didn’t seem to get bored by Tony’s technological ramblings, or overwhelmed by the stories Tony told about his ‘part-time gig’.

He didn’t broach the subject of Iron Man all too often, but when he did, it was in reference to a late night or a bruise he carried visibly on his body. He spoke of his experience as a ‘vigilante’ in light terms, rarely getting into ethical or moral issues within that context. Instead, he spoke of tough fights and tougher calls. The stories seemed to entertain Steve, and he was thankful that Steve saw them as entertaining and not explicitly concerning.

As they walked out of the diner, Tony wrapped his scarf closer around himself. He’d been paying more attention to being _stylish_ around Steve, as much as he was generally unaware of trends. Pepper had told him that this outfit was decent; he wore slim fitting jeans, a black t-shirt, a black double breasted jacket, and a long, olive green scarf. At the least, he thought he should try to be put together, even if it was ‘the asscrack of dawn’ in his opinion.

About to open his mouth to start on some sort of tangent, he found his breath caught instead by Steve suddenly catching his hand. Tony’s step faltered, and he turned to face him as well, slim fingers gently interweaving with Steve’s. The two had shared little but chaste cheek kisses and rounds of footsies; he was hoping that the invitation to Steve’s apartment meant that maybe they’d finally breach the point of Steve placing those big hands somewhere other than on Tony’s arm or cheek.

“No, not at all.”

Tony smiled, squeezing Steve’s hand. He didn’t care if they were seen, or if there were photos taken; there’d been worse things published about him. Being seen holding hands with someone as attractive as Steve wouldn’t be a detriment, in Tony’s mind. He gently pulled Steve forward by the hand that he held, leading him along the street for a moment, before letting Steve direct him to where they were headed.

* * *

The camaraderie that was shared between them was what Steve valued the most. Even though they had different interests and Steve had no chance in Hell to keep up with the technological mumbo jumbo Tony spewed out regularly, he could appreciate the passion that the older man had. Tony, thank the heavens, seemed to possess an abundance of patience as he regularly helped Steve figure out the phone and watch and usually not giving him too much of a hard time about it, either. Of course he _reminded_ the blonde of Howard, he was cut from the same mould, but there were subtle differences which Steve appreciated.

When the hand holding was not only allowed, but their fingers intertwined, Steve was full on beaming and squeezed back. "Okay, cool," he replied, _trying_ to be easygoing about the whole thing, but he wasn't very good at concealing his utter glee about this next step. He did stop himself from swinging their linked hands, though. He wasn't _that_ dopey.

They started walking again and despite the brisk air, Steve's leather jacket was open. He ran notoriously hotter than most people, so it didn't faze him. He'd forever be grateful for his health now, for being strong enough that he didn't have to fret about falling sick from a simple chill.

"Just three more blocks 'till we're at my place," he explained. 'His place' was a comfortable studio apartment that Shield's psychologists had been in charge of decorating with things that would be calming and familiar - or something like that. It was more than bizarre because the art that hung up on the wall was actually considered to be vintage... but they were simply advertisements from the '40s. Apparently that’s all it took.

* * *

Tony rubbed the back of Steve’s hand with his thumb, his calloused fingertips holding Steve’s hand firmly; though not without a bit of extension, as covering Steve’s large palms was proving to be somewhat of a challenge. Ultimately, Tony didn’t mind. He liked the feeling of walking with him, hand in hand. He did like the smile Steve had on his face a little bit more; god, it was endearing. Ever so slightly, Tony swung their hands, gazing down the street.

“Very cool.” Tony mused, teasing him back. He glanced over at his companion, noting the open jacket. “Aren’t you cold?” Tony asked, bumping a shoulder against Steve’s playfully. “Or does that muscle double for use as intimidation _and_ insulation?” He laughed, peering over at him. Tony was pretty sensitive to temperature; always the first to complain, or the first to have his jaw audibly chatter on days that were chillier than this.

“You live in a nice part of town.” Tony commented, smiling to himself. “With a nice view of my place...” He gestured, with his free hand, to the looming mass of Stark Tower that seemed all too close to them. It was further down than Steve’s apartment, and slightly to the south, as well. “Not quite as romantic of staring at the same moon, but I guess there’s some kinda’ charm in knowing you’re staring at the place I’m sleeping before you lay your head down for the night.”

* * *

They. Were. Swinging. Hands. And Steve had to look away because he was smiling so wide his jaw hurt and his heart felt so full he didn't quite know what to do or say. There had been many moments where he'd felt wonder and joy since reawakening in the future (at least half of them involving Tony), but this one took the cake. It was a deceptively simple (and no doubt childish) action, but for someone like Steve Rogers who hadn't had the time or opportunity to really date, it had him feeling like he was walking on air.

It only took a the shoulder bump to bring himself back down a little because Tony was speaking to him and he needed to pay attention. He chuckled at the joke, looking over at Tony. "Insulation, most definitely. Intimidation? Only when necessary," Steve replied easily.

"It is quite the amazing landmark, Tony," Steve agreed, blue eyes glancing toward the monolithic piece of architecture. "Since you're seeing my place today, you can show me your's next?" Stark Tower - that would sure be something neat to experience. _Tony's world._

They reached the building he lived in and Steve pulled him to the door. Producing a key, he unlocked the main door and pulled them over to the elevator.

* * *

Tony’s heart fluttered along with Steve’s smile. It was nearly infuriating how mad Steve drove him; how frustratingly sweet he was, how he maintained such an amount of gentle kindness toward Tony and just about anyone he met. It was something that Tony admired about him now, but he couldn’t say if he would have admired this about him a couple of years ago. When he was harder. When he wasn’t trying.

“Only when necessary, eh?” Tony hummed, glancing over his body as subtly as he could. Which- knowing Tony- wasn’t very subtle at all. “Do you go and beat up thugs by sunset as well?

He gave Steve’s hand a thankful squeeze as Steve complimented the Tower, but he didn’t quite respond to his question yet. They were drawing near to what seemed to be an apartment building, and- the fluttering in his heart was spreading to a tenseness in his body. He hid the heat of his cheeks by tucking his jaw down into the scarf, seeming to have his head down in thought for a split second.

The split second lasted to when they stepped inside the building, contentedly following Steve into the elevator. Tony reached over, hitting the ‘close door’ button, but not doing anything else.

“Yeah. I can do that.”

Tony breathed, looking up at him. Steve- _God, Steve-_

“I want to show you a lot more than that, though.”

He squeezed Steve’s hand, taking a step forward. For once, he was terrified. Now, usually he was a lot more confident, especially when he was armed with both a) an ideal situation and b) a smooth as hell one liner. But, he was almost shaking in fear of rejection as he closed the space between them, using his free hand to take Steve’s free hand. He lead that hand to rest on his side, looking up at him with a quick, nervous smile.

His other hand went to hold Steve’s jacket, pulling him down firmly, as he’d either have to lift himself to his toes or pull Steve down to kiss him. And kiss him he did- smaller body flush to Steve’s- lips soft, but steady in their intent as he finally covered Steve’s with his own.

* * *

Steve ushered them into the elevator, his hand reaching to press the fourth floor button, but then Tony spoke and he stopped, hand falling back. It wasn't so much as spoke as delivered _a line_ . He blinked, eyebrows drawing up in confusion because he was pretty sure he _knew_ what Tony was referring to, but still didn't quite believe it.

He was speechless as his hand was re-positioned to Tony's waist, and Steve held gently, because this wasn't something he was against doing... he just hadn't wanted to rush into anything, he'd been enjoying the way their interaction had been going. Steve could tell Tony was apprehensive, a flash of a smile appearing before the blonde felt himself be yanked down and toward a mouth.

Their lips connected, it felt electric and his mind short circuited. Steve did nothing, eyes widening in shock, but he didn't pull away.

Then Steve did everything: He deepened the kiss, tongue swiping at the bottom lip of the other man's. His hand slid around Tony's back and he pulled the smaller frame into him, but no, that still wasn't enough. He groaned in frustration, chest heaving, and he crowded Tony against the wall of the elevator, pinning him there as the kiss turned into a desperate, sloppy thing, because hey, it had been a while since he'd been able to practice. He could feel himself grow embarrassingly hard, embarrassingly quick, but Steve paid no attention to that problem, content to just learn the ins and outs of Tony's mouth. He let go of the other man's hand, choosing instead to bury it in dark brown hair, gripping firmly. From his experience, a little show of domination was generally an okay thing.

* * *

He kept Steve down with the hand on his jacket, his mouth feeling the defined curves and edges of Steve's. Steve seemed to be frozen, and then-

He wasn't.

Tony gave a startled gasp as Steve was quick to deepen the kiss. Tony wanted to respond, do something that would catch Steve's attention, but he was caught up in the hand at his back- the sudden, guttural groan that came from Steve, making the hairs on the back of Tony's neck stand on end. Steve was pushing him against the wall of the elevator, and Tony happily obliged- giving a pleased little moan as his back hit the wall. His heart was racing, its rhythm screaming in his ears as his mouth collided with Steve's, desperately beginning to suck on Steve's tongue in a blatantly lewd fashion.

From where Steve was pinning him, Tony slung his arms around Steve's neck, using the downward force from Steve's body to lift his legs up- wrapping them around Steve's hips- forcing Steve into carrying him, in a move that was sly and telling of Tony's athleticism. By doing this, their hips crashed together, Tony immediately noticing how quickly Steve had gotten hard. And- as one could expect from him- he felt beamingly _proud_ of that. A loud whimper crossed his tongue as Steve moved one of his hands into Tony's hair, Tony's heels digging into the backs of Steve's legs, pulling him harder against his body. Steve was _strong_ , and Tony was all too eager to capitalize on that strength; he squirmed against the hand in his hair a little, releasing Steve's tongue in favor of playing with it, attempting to fight him for dominance. His hands ran down Steve's back, feeling his structure through the layers of clothing that seemed all too restrictive at the moment.

* * *

 The kissing and whatever else Tony was doing with his tongue (the man sure could kiss), it was almost all too much. Steve felt unhinged, off balanced and a little too dizzy with hormones. Tony had somehow got himself in a position where his legs were wrapped around Steve and was being supported. He liked _it_ , holding Tony while their kiss raged on, lips fighting a little, but in a fun way.

It wasn't how he pictured his first kiss with a man would be, or with Tony for the matter. As much as every part of his body wanted this - whatever _this_ was - to continue, they were in his building's elevator, a fact that hadn't escaped Steve. He regretfully pulled his mouth away and his hand eased its hold on brunet stands. "I... I... Not here, yeah?" He was mumbling and not sounding so sure of himself. Tony didn't seem convinced, so Steve backed away from the elevator, careful to support the man-ape he currently had clinging onto him and he made for the elevator control panel and pressed his floor's button. "That was so inappropriate, I'm sorry. I should let you down," he babbled.

* * *

Tony hadn't expected this from Steve, but he was happy it was happening, nonetheless. Not that he'd been beginning to doubt Steve's attraction to him, but- it felt good to have this physical reminder. This sign that Steve _did_ want him, at least as much as Tony wanted him, if not more from his startlingly abrupt actions. He let one of his hands settle into Steve's hair, fingers combing through his pale locks, wanting to keep him here for as long as he could.

Only, Steve interjected. When he broke the kiss, Tony started up at him, breaths quick and heavy. He scanned Steve's face, worried that he'd upset him, but- "Yeah." Tony agreed,  breathlessly, though he honestly didn't want this to end. He caught on to the uneasiness in his voice, and so, he leant in to leave a soft kiss on Steve's cheek. "Easy..." He murmured, the hand that wasn't in his hair rubbing his back. Steve seemed so skittish; it wasn't until now that Tony clued in that maybe there'd been a reason Steve hadn't kissed him before, maybe he didn't like this, or he wasn't ready-

Pulling himself up, he wrapped both of his arms around the back of Steve's neck, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. He blinked, pulling his brows together in concern at Steve's words. "Steve- no." Tony shook his head, giving him a little squeeze. "Fuck, babe-" The name came out slurred, but it was definitely there. "-stop being so damn polite. I've been waiting for this since I saw you. It's okay." He paused. Was reassurance what Steve needed? Maybe a better man would have offered another line, something along the lines of _and if it's not okay we'll slow down_ , but Tony was being selfish. Instead, he leant in to give him another, though much lighter kiss, before pulling away. "I want you to do that to me. Badly. Do you understand?"

* * *

 _Babe_. Steve was sure his heart fluttered, delighted by the pet name. Everything Tony was saying and doing tested his resolve in the most alluring way possible, but thankfully the elevator lurched into action and that seemed to help ground him a little. The words were meant to convince him to continue, Steve knew, but he absolutely couldn't. He didn't want to get fresh with Tony in such a public place, not when things were going so well. He'd be considered old fashioned, but he was okay with that, because there was something timeless to courting and waiting.

After another kiss was pressed to his mouth he sighed. Tony wasn't making this easy _at all._ "I understand, I do. Lord knows I want to do so much with you, but not here, Tony." He gave a gentle kiss to Tony's forehead and eased the man off of him. A little chagrined, he turned away to adjust himself, but when that task was complete, Steve went straight for Tony's hand, holding it firmly because he didn't want their physical contact to end.

Lust and desire. They weren't new to Steve by any means, especially since ending up in a body that many were more than willing to get intimate with. He'd had a handful of flitting experiences with a few of the girls on his war bonds tour and even with a fellow soldier, but meaningless pursuits of carnal desire weren't his thing. But here was Tony admitting that he'd wanted something sexual with him from the first time he'd laid eyes on Steve. How was he to take that? It was flattering, of course, but this all was more than just hormones for the blonde.

* * *

His breaths were beginning to calm, though his heart still pounded, and his throat was still tight. He looked over Steve’s face apprehensively, trying to read his emotions. Steve wasn’t cold or guarded by any means, but- his features didn’t give much to Tony, or at least not what he was looking for. He jumped a little when the elevator started, instinctively clinging to Steve a little more in response to the sudden action.

Fingertips traced small circles into the back of Steve’s neck as he began to speak to him, though, his stomach sank a little at what Steve said. Huh. Tony wasn’t used to that. He bit the inside of his cheek, blushing at the kiss on the forehead, moving down from him compliantly- even if there was the slightest hint of a pout on him. Moreso a pout of worry; he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d pushed Steve too far, now that the intoxicating heat of his body was taken from him.

But that thought faded as Steve took his hand. Tony glanced over at him, giving a little nod. “Yeah... alrigh’.” He murmured, moving his thumb across the back of Steve’s hand absentmindedly. Naturally. He was silent for a minute or two, his free hand raising to press his fingers to his own lips, thinking about that kiss. To not be in control- or have someone tell him what to do, in this sense- was new to him. It was _frustrating_ and yet, it only made Tony want him more.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Tony lead him out of the elevator, but let Steve find the door to his apartment. Once Tony stepped in, he let go of Steve’s hand in favor of removing his coat and sweater, hanging it up wherever it seemed appropriate to do so. He was still blushing- the skin of his neck was flushed- but he tried not to think too much of what had happened mere minutes ago, instead walking into Steve’s apartment, slipping off his shoes as he went.

“This is really...” Tony almost wanted to call it _quaint_. He couldn’t help but find Steve’s apartment charming; he stopped to admire a massive ‘BUY WAR BONDS’ poster on one wall. “... cool.” He spoke, before laughing at himself. “Sorry, that sounded sarcastic. I just meant-“ As he looked around, his eyes rested on a record player.

“You’re cut from a different cloth, Steve, do ya’ know that?”

Tony mused, chuckling as he walked over to the record player. Tony had a vinyl collection as well, but it was mostly classic and alternative rock; he picked up Doris Day and Andrews Sisters recordings, holding them gently in his hands. “Do you actually listen to this stuff?” He asked, turning his head to shoot Steve a smile. He didn’t mean to be rude, or mocking; he simply couldn’t handle how much of an enigma Steve was. Unraveling who he was, learning, was addicting. “I thought you might be a Drake kinda guy, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

* * *

He hoped that the awkwardness from their elevator shenanigans wouldn't last. It hadn't been his intention to start something he couldn't finish - to be some tease. Steve hadn't been thinking at all was the problem, or 'thinking with the wrong head'... Steve wasn't perfect, far from it, he still had urges like any other man and God, Tony _wanted_ him and that was a heady feeling in and of itself, but it wasn't _enough_ for Steve. Had all their dates just been Tony biding his time to get them alone so they could be sexual? The idea was more than worrisome and left a hollow feeling inside. He didn't _want_ to to be another blonde; he couldn't let himself be just another blonde that Tony Stark had bedded.

Hand in hand, Steve lead the way out of the elevator and into his apartment, up until the point where he had to slip off his leather jacket and hang it up by the door. His shoes followed next and he toed them into a neat line. It was nice to see Tony feel comfortable enough to do the same without any prompting, but this was the same man who had had no problem cornering him in an elevator, so was it that much of a surprise? Steve swallowed past a lump, feeling more on edge and not knowing what to expect. He smoothed down his polo t-shirt and walked further into the spacious and tidy place that was supposed to be his home, but felt more like an stand in.

The comment of him being cut from a different cloth, Steve couldn't help but give a wry smile and a hapless shrug. He'd have to tell him, sooner than later, but for now Steve was too caught up in being thought of as just an average man, nothing more, nothing less. At the inquiry into the music, Steve nodded. "Guess you could say I'm a fan of the simpler, older times." And wasn't that the most loaded thing he'd said in a while.

He came to stand next to Tony and sighed. "Tony..." Steve placed his hands on the older man's shoulders and turned him so they were facing, but his mouth wasn't cooperating, because he was staring into Tony's eyes and they were close, but he wanted to be _closer_ , and the whole thing was becoming a tangled mess of concern and craving.

* * *

Tony set Steve’s records down gently, careful to put them back the way he found them. He usually wasn’t so cautious, but, treating Steve’s things with respect was important to him. He hummed to himself, glancing over at Steve as the other man drew near. “I can put your collection on your phone, you know.” He mused. “I’ve got a record converter at my place- it rips the music from the records and turns them into MP3 files. It’s pretty simple, I could maybe bring it over sometime and that way you’d never have to worry about losing the records themselves...”

God, Tony was rambling. Mostly because Tony was _nervous_ . There was something heavy in the air around them and Tony was hoping it wasn’t something terrible. He jumped a little bit when Steve’s heavy hands rested on his shoulders, allowing himself to be turned. “Hi.” He breathed, glancing over Steve’s face. Again, he tried to read Steve’s pristine features, but he found himself failing. He was so handsome. So _composed_ and yet there was conflict behind those eyes.

Tony lifted his hands, letting them rest gently on either side of Steve’s face. His thumbs ran over Steve’s cheeks, drinking the feeling of his skin in. They hadn’t been this physical with one another- ever. And he couldn’t tell if Steve liked it, but Tony knew _he_ liked it, so...

Wordlessly, Tony lifted himself onto his tiptoes, covering Steve’s mouth with his own. His hands moved back, one resting at the back of Steve’s neck. The other ran down his chest, feeling his muscles, his abdomen- his hand went lower, snaking around his hip, his side. He kissed him slowly, and deeply, trying to fight off the urgency that he’d held in the elevator. That didn’t mean he was anything less than intense, however. Tony pushed his smaller body against Steve’s, giving him a light gasp as he did so.

* * *

There was hesitancy when he gazed down at Tony, and it had Steve feeling guilty because, despite his own unease about where things stood between them, he didn't want to make the other man feel _bad_. "Hi you," Steve softly responded and couldn't help but smile slightly because Tony's 'hi' had been so _him_ and adorable.

He _should_ have been pulling back, removing Tony's hands from his face and delivering the pseudo speech he had been constructing in his mind during the past few minutes, but...that wasn't happening. Tony's fingers were soft and gentle on his face and he leaned into the touch. Sweet he could do, Steve felt comfortable with sweet. Passionately making out in a public space with Tony hanging all over him? Not so much. But this? Steve liked this, wanted a bit more of this if he was being honest.

Then a hand was trailing down his chest and stomach - not quite as innocent of a touch, but still in the realm of the acceptable and Steve felt warm and he squeezed Tony's shoulders appreciatively, running his hands down smaller biceps and enjoying the slight strength he found there. Their mouths were kissing again and the space between them disappeared as Tony crowded into him. Steve felt pulled in, arms wrapping around Tony's mid back and thoroughly relishing in being able to gather Tony up into his arms.

Any time his feisty kissing partner tried to push things further, Steve would retreat a little and would place the faintest of closed mouth kisses on Tony instead. After that transpired a few times and it was obvious that Tony wasn't thrilled, Steve pushed the spunky brunet back down on the flats of his feet. "There's no rush, okay?" Steve murmured. "Let me just be sweet with you."

* * *

Tony was smiling in-between kisses, continuing to massage small circles into the back of Steve’s neck. He tried to focus on the kiss, but Steve’s touch was distracting. He shivered when his palms enveloped his arms, angling his face into the kiss as Steve’s hands _finally_ began to move over his body.

The hand on his neck moved to hold him instead, slung around the back of his neck, closing the space between them just as contentedly as Steve did. His hand moved under Steve’s shirt, resting on the skin of his pelvis, and it was at that point that Steve backed off for the first time. Tony moved his hand out from under his shirt at that response, fingertips instead looping into his belt, holding Steve close to him by it. He moved one of Steve’s hands down to rest on his ass- of course- this didn’t go over well, and Tony was left gasping when Steve pushed him away.

His brows pulled together in confusion, hands falling from him as Steve spoke. Tony understood maybe half of what Steve was trying to say, but he couldn’t quite piece it together. His body felt like it was burning in the wake of Steve’s touches, and he’d thought that maybe Steve had been feeling the same.

“What do you mean?” Tony asked, looking somewhat exasperated as he gazed up at his companion. “I-I.. I’m sorry Steve, I’m not picking up on what you’re trying to tell me.”

* * *

Steve took half a step back and away from Tony figuring that the oncoming conversation would fare better if there were some space between them. There. Deep breath in, calm down, exhale. This was salvageable, he hoped. If it wasn't, Steve had misread Howard's son and it would be all too evident that they weren't actually as compatible as he had first believed. It made him disappointed to even entertain that notion that he could have been so misguided. It also made him feel sorry for Tony, because what an empty life that would be...

"Listen, I fancy you a lot. You're the first person I've romantically pursued in quite some time," Steve started, a hand came to rest on his hip, but he realised he was giving off too stern of an impression and let it fall. "I get that kissing and-and-" he was gesturing a little with his hand, words tumbling out faster in his nervousness, "-that kissing and sex can be meaningless, and you seem to be the King of that, but I don't want to be another blonde that the illustrious Tony Stark takes to bed!" Steve frowned, but barrelled on because he was on a roll, "As much as I want to - believe me I do - I _ain't_ gonna feel you up when I haven't even asked you to go _steady_ yet!"

He had laid it all out. The cards were on the table and all he could do was wait to see how Toby took it.

* * *

Tony watched Steve as he took a step back, and his heart immediately sank. What had he done wrong? Well, besides the obvious, but.. God, people were _clamouring_ for his attention. He practically had a waiting list of people wanting to be the person who he was jumping in elevators. And yet, here was Steve, who Tony had pushed that aside for, and Steve was...

_God, Steve._

Tony pressed his lips into a thin line, raising his eyebrow as that hand moved to rest on his hip. Was he getting some sort of dad-talk right now? Steve was surely acting like it. As much as Tony wanted to interrupt him, he stayed quiet, taking in what Steve had to say. Though, he found himself biting his tongue by the end of his rant; both in frustration, and also in suppressed laughter, as he hadn’t heard anyone ever vocalise the words _go steady_ in his thirty eight years of life.

He exhaled once Steve was finished, wiping at his face. He didn’t look like much of anything externally; maybe a bit disappointed. Disappointment was really all he felt. “Steve...” He sighed, looking at him. “Steve, you didn’t really assume that you were _anyone else_ , did you?”

He paused, not knowing if he wanted to get into this.

“If you were ‘just another blonde’ to me, I would have been done with you by now. Okay?”

His voice was somewhat monotone, flat in how much he didn’t want to be saying these words. Or broaching this subject. “But you’re not.” Tony continued, putting his hands in his pockets. “You’re not and- I don’t know if you’ll believe me, because I guess you’ve let my reputation speak for me- and I do... care about..” This was hard to articulate. He moved his hand, motioning between the two of them. “This. Us. I guess.”

Tony sighed through his nose.

“I mean, I don’t know if you’ve lost some time when you woke up but, never in my life has anyone _asked me to go steady_ before we’ve fucked. It’s just. I dunno. How I’ve always done things.” He paused, sticking his hand back in his pocket. “I don’t... I’m not used to anyone saying _no_ , okay? It’s weird. I guess I’ll have to get used to it but...” Words. Thoughts. They were difficult. “I just... I guess I just wanted to know, for sure, that you actually wanted me.”

* * *

Steve felt like a prized idiot for letting himself judging Tony in the same way he didn't want others to judge him. Relationships, or even the preamble to one, were a tricky thing, he was learning. Steve certainly could have been more tactful with his words, could have probably mentioned his more traditional views before inviting Tony over to his place - he'd practically set himself up as bait. He'd seen enough around him to know that sex was treated much more loosely now.

"I didn't know what to think," he replied slowly, trying to choose his words a bit more carefully now. "I didn't want to, well it sounds stupid now, but I didn't want to assume I was anythin' special." Steve looked down and away, needing a moment to gather his thoughts. He shifted on his feet before making eye contact again. "I don't really know what I'm doing here either, Tony." Small shrug. "I haven't dated with much success and... you would be my first same-sex relationship."

Another confession that perhaps should have came sooner than now. Steve Rogers had always prided himself on being honest, but the very start of this friendship had omissions of truth. It was frustrating to be so thrown off by a person when all he wanted was to be contained and secure in this unsure future.

"I'm not saying no, I'm saying 'not right now' to the more sexual things, Tony," Steve tried, but it sounded weak to even to him. His principles were important to him and as easy as it would be to give in and dive in head first, Steve wasn't sure that's what he wanted to do. Addressing Tony's last sentiment, Steve argued, "Why _wouldn't_ I want you? You saw how worked up I got in the elevator... of course I want you." He closed the distance between them and glanced down "First things first, do you want to go steady with me?"

* * *

Tony blinked at what Steve said, biting the inside of his cheek. “God, no. You _are-_ and I hate this word, but you used it first- special to me, Steve.” He spoke quietly, examining Steve’s face as he glanced at the floor. It was incredible how small he seemed in this moment. Like he were any other man and not his tall, broad and handsome Steve. He hummed at his next question, wiping his face again as the confession that was made. He didn’t really know what to say. He’d replace the words with touch, but, he wasn’t sure if Steve would want that either.

“You’d be mine, too. At least.. openly.”

He murmured. His sexuality wasn’t a secret, and while it was discussed by everyone around him, it wasn’t something he went out of his way to talk about, either.

Steve’s voice was weak, or at least, less confident than it had been. He gave a nod and a hum of acknowledgement, though he let Steve continue speaking. “I-I don’t know.” He paused. “Because I’m an unreliable, selfish drunk with mediocre communication skills, and everyone only seems to want me for hours, not-“ He paused to breathe. “-Weeks. Not like you.”

His breath caught in his throat at Steve approached him, readying himself for whatever Steve might throw at him. Of all things, he certainly wasn’t expecting the blunt question that was offered to him. Tony raised his brows in slight shock, blush sweeping down his neck again. The timing was- well- Tony had no idea when people asked one another to _go steady_ , so he thought it best just to roll with it.

“Yes, babe.”

* * *

 _Special._ He was special to Tony and it elated Steve, filled him with warmth and had his hands itching to sweep Tony up into an embrace. His face softened because it _seemed_ like things were being patched up the more they were open with each other. It would take work - anything that was important took effort, a friendship would be no different.

Tony's admittance that Steve, too, would be his first homosexual relationship had him feeling a mixture of giddiness and relief - giddy because they really _were_ special to each other, and relief, because they would both be on the same page and could figure it out together.

"Don't worry, I'm going to keep on wanting you, okay?" Steve assured him. He'd prove it to Tony, prove that he wasn't going to simply have a fleeting attraction and then be done with him, because what a _horrible_ thing to endure.

And then: _Yes, babe_ and without another thought Steve was taking that half-step extra and giving into the urge to enclose Tony in a hug. "Good, good, great..." He gushed and held the smaller man close, arms running up his back before working into the back of his hair and holding his head still as he kissed Tony's mouth softly.

* * *

Tony was relieved when he could finally read Steve's face. It spoke of satisfaction and delight in what Tony had said regarding Steve being special to him. "It's the truth." He spoke quietly, resisting the urge to walk up to him, embrace him. "You are important to me, Steve, already." _Already_ was important. He'd known Steve for what, a week? And here they were- having a disagreement, as if they were some kind of legitimate couple.

And maybe they were, now. Tony had agreed to _going steady_ \- which he honestly couldn't remember the meaning of. Probably something along the lines of not dating anyone else or being mutually exclusive. Tony could handle that. He was convinced Steve was worth it- especially by how he'd picked him up, how he'd pinned him against the elevator wall. No one had prompted anywhere near the same amount of feeling within him with those actions. Simple they were, but they had a profound effect on Tony. "Okay." He agreed, letting a soft smile slip onto his features.

 _Babe_ seemed to work. Tony moved his arms up, holding Steve back, lacing his arms around his shoulders and pulling himself up a little, pressing their chests together. "Does that make you happy?" He asked softly. "You're going to have to explain to me what that means, but if it means I'm yours, I'll sign whatever dotted line you want me to..." He trailed off as Steve's hand moved into his hair, holding him still. He strained against that hand a little, if only to feel the sweet restraint that Steve's fingers entwined in his locks offered him. He kissed him back, wanting to deepen it, wanting to intensify it, but for now- "You're also going to have to show me how to 'be sweet'." Tony breathed, breaking their lips to do so.

* * *

"Of course I am," Steve beamed at him. How could he not be happy? Tony was his and he was Tony's, and they were going steady and would continue to grow closer and maybe, in time, Tony could help ease the ache in Steve's heart and he in turn could help Tony to be a little easier on himself– and why was Steve getting so ahead of himself? Despite the undeniable chemistry, they _had_ only met on a chance encounter over a week ago. It was too damn easy to let his emotions get carried away at times.

"How to be sweet?" A soft laugh and a charmed smile followed. He could tell the other man was trying and that meant the world to Steve. He kissed the tip of Tony's nose. "How about a dance, sweetheart?" He personally wasn't a great dancer by any means, but he could slow dance when the occasion arose and why not create the opportunity now? They had cause to celebrate (not that you really needed one to dance with your squeeze), it hardly seemed fair to pass it up.

He let Tony go to walk over to his record collection. After a moment of searching Steve pulled out Dinah Shore's _You'd Be Nice To Come Home To_ and set it up on the record player.  The music started up and Steve instructed Tony to loop his arms around his neck while he placed his hands on Tony's waist. The lyrics were simple, but beautiful to the blonde and echoed his sentiments. "It's no bumping and grinding, but this isn't so bad is it?" They swayed in time to the music, Steve leading and his heart soaring.

* * *

Tony couldn't help but smile back at the confirmation that Steve was happy. "Good." He breathed, looking over his companion's face. Happy didn't seem to cover whatever was going on behind those blue eyes; Steve looked elated. It prompted Tony to relax a little bit. He lifted himself up a little, kissing Steve's chin ever so lightly, affirming his mutual agreement that this was good. They were good, and they were going to be good, if they kept on together like this.

_How about a dance, sweetheart?_

Tony couldn't stop the nervous chuckle that left his lips at that one. "Oh, God, babe. I don't." He blinked. "I'm not really the greatest at.. dancing..." He explained, looking a bit anxious as Steve moved away from him. "Unless you're talking about dirty dancing, and even then, I'm pretty uncoordinated."

But Steve was putting on the record anyway, and he couldn't stop smiling at the hokey music that filled the room. He did as instructed, placing his arms around Steve contentedly. His stomach was doing backflips as they moved, and he took mental inventory of their conversation. This was new to both of them. New for Tony as he hadn't dated and certainly hadn't had a _boyfriend_ before, and new for Steve as he'd never had _anyone_ before. They were both going through some kind of uncharted territory; Tony, maneuvering through a relationship based on something other than sexual attraction, and Steve, attracted to someone who could very well be seen as the polar opposite of him.

Tony closed the space between them to rest his cheek on Steve's chest. Despite the controversy over it, he was glad they'd broken the ice regarding physical touch. It felt good to hold him and be held. Soon enough, he was deftly humming along to the song, taking slow, calm breaths as he processed what they'd talked about.

"Mm?" He blinked, pulling back to glance up at Steve as he removed himself from his thoughts. "Yeah," He grinned, "I guess this isn't so bad. I can't complain too much when I've got your arms around me, darlin'."

Fuck. Steve was going to turn him into a goddamn sap.

* * *

He knew dancing wasn't for everyone. Christ, how many times had he looked like a fool trying to dance with whoever Bucky had hitched him up to for a night, the poor bird generally just us displeased as himself. Steve was glad that Tony was humouring him, taking instructions and not putting up a fuss with being given the women's role either (Tony was smaller, it just had seemed more practical to him).

When Tony came to rest his head on Steve's chest, the blonde was sure the other man could hear his heart thundering away. It wasn't from nerves, but from excitement. He knew Tony wasn't the answer to his problems, but the prospect of hope and love had his world being colored more brightly; the things that were daunting seemed a little more manageable now. He would have both a partner and friend by his side and Steve felt luckier than ever. "You'll have to show me some of that dirty dancing, you got my curious now."

He was looking down at that devilishly handsome grin and Steve was openly staring, paying attention to the intricate pattern of facial hair and wondering how annoying it was to upkeep. He then moved to Tony's eyes which were the color of chocolate, a warm rich brown–but his fawning was interrupted by a _darling,_ and Steve melted, arms tightening around Tony. In time with the singing, he whispered directly into Tony's ear, " _You'd be so nice, you'd be paradise... To come home to and love_." Feeling  emboldened, Steve dipped the smaller man and kissed him on the mouth with intent.

* * *

Tony couldn't help but laugh to himself at Steve's request. "I can't exactly grind and strip to _swing music._ " He teased, keeping his hands still, though the temptation to feel up his back again was certainly there. "Unless that's what you're into." He mused, waggling his eyebrows at him momentarily, before breaking into easy laughter at his own absurdity.

And his suspicion of Steve turning him into a sap were only further expanded upon as Steve leaned down, whispering to him, after full on staring at him for a good thirty seconds. He was honestly flattered, however; few people looked at him the way Steve did. Steve wasn't merely objectifying him, or standing in awe of him; rather, he was completely enraptured in how Tony appeared. And that was something that Tony could heartily appreciate. Tony shivered ever so slightly at Steve's whispering, caught up in the tone and depth of his voice.

That was followed by a surprised gasp when Steve suddenly dipped him. Not expecting that, Tony put his weight into Steve's arms, allowing himself to feel completely thrown off kilter for a moment. He was embarrassed by how hard he was smiling, enough so that Steve's lips enclosed on a smile rather than immediate reciprocation of the kiss.


	4. Come Fly With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I have no doubt that _you_ have more than a few ideas," Steve somehow managed to respond, voice only slightly strained. An involuntary shiver went through him from from the feel of Tony's facial hair and breath tickling at his neck. He placed his glass on the bar's counter top and brought his hands to Tony's shoulders to gently push down his overeager pup because that same overeager pup just had _licked _him and that felt far too tantalizing to allow it to happen again so soon. "But _my_ idea was that I could maybe... ya know... spend the night here and sleep in the same bed with you?"__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff! Blame my writing partner <3 Some smut next chapter, enjoy!  
> Co-written, "M" writes the lovable Tony Stark, I write Steve.  
> My [tumblr](http://merrythought.tumblr.com) \- come say hi if you want.

Tony was in disbelief over two things:

1) That Steve hadn't gotten bored of him, after a month and a half of dates;

2) That he'd been able to maintain Steve's standards and _not_ continually try to bed him, as tempting as it was.

Truly, it was his longest courtship in years. Since agreeing to 'go steady', the two had been almost inseparable. If they weren't together, they were texting; Tony sending Steve Snapchats of his 'boring' days at work or other mundane pictures of his routine, Steve sending back sweet goodnight and good morning texts. They explored the city together, sharing their favorite hole-in-the-wall cafes and small mom and pop shops that Tony happily gave business too.

Occasionally, they watched movies, or danced in Steve's apartment until Tony's feet were sore. They'd taken a nap together once, after Tony had dragged Steve out for a game of badminton against one another. Overall, their existence was seemingly picturesque, despite the fact that it lacked so much of what Tony considered to be the cornerstone of a relationship: anything sexual. At all. Despite Tony's repeated and numerous attempts to encourage Steve to touch him, talk dirty to him, _anything_ , Steve veered in the opposite direction. Steve kept their make-out sessions governed at a solid PG-13, even if it required physically holding Tony's hands down.

Which Tony didn't mind. At all.

Tony had taken him out for dinner for his 'anniversary', a month and a week from the day that Steve had asked him to 'go steady'. As usual, he refused to let Steve pay for dinner, though he did let Steve buy Tony's drinks. He wasn't buzzed, but there was a happy warmth in his abdomen as he walked, hand-in-hand with Steve to the looming mass of Stark Tower.

He lead the way into the building, keeping close to Steve as they stepped into the elevator. They rose up dozens of floors to the penthouse suite, Tony requiring voice and optical security checks before the doors slid open.

"Welcome to my winter home." He chuckled, motioning to the sleek, modern space they stepped into. The penthouse section was nine floors, counting the party deck. It was a little excessive, but with two of the floors reserved for Pepper, another two reserved for laboratory space, and one floor dedicated his personal workshop, it wasn't underutilized. Currently, the Tower was empty, void of Pepper or Rhodey or even Happy. "And my office, I guess. I'm pretty awful at home-work-life balance." Tony shrugged.

Besides the modern appearance of the suite, the windows offered a stunning view of New York City. The suite was spotless; it was clear that Tony was meticulous about its appearance, even if his workshop on the floor below was far more messy. Very little of the apartment was personalized. Tony's decor taste was sleek and simple; there were no signs of personal photos or trinkets anywhere.

He immediately lead Steve to the bar, pulling out a bottle of champagne and two flutes for them. He popped the bottle, raising it to his lips to catch any that spilled from the side. Shamelessly, he licked up the side of the neck of it, giving Steve an easy wink as he did so.

"To us," He spoke, pouring two flutes. He passed one to Steve, before clinking his own glass against it. "New York's most unlikely couple."

* * *

Other than getting a "talking to" from his psychologist about the dangers of dallying with Tony Stark, things, somehow, only got better as the days ticked on. As much as the woman tried her best to persuade Steve to not date Iron Man ('Reckless! Selfish! A disaster waiting!') Shield couldn't stop him. He'd listened politely, thanked Ms. Fellows for her concern, but smiled and reminded her that it was a free country, one that he had fought for, and that he'd always had a penchant for danger anyway.

Dating Tony had its perks such as never having to wait in line anywhere. A drawback was obviously the fame issue. Steve didn't mind when it was children running up and asking for autographs (it secretly overjoyed him to see Tony try and attempt to deal with the 'miniature adults'), but at one point a busty redhead had wormed her way forward and pointed to her cleavage as the location she wanted a signature. Needless to say, Steve hadn't been impressed.

It only took the press a few weeks before headlines started to fly:

\- _Tony Stark spotted holding hands with a blonde; surprise, it's a man!_

_\- Blonde hunk sweeps Stark off his feet!_

_\- DO WE WANT A QUEER HERO?_

_\- Tony Stark & Boyfriend Cozy Up _

Steve didn't pay too much attention to the hubbub surrounding them (Ms. Fellows loved to bring attention to their media, however). He was used to smiling for the camera, so that's what Steve did - smiled, but civilly declined all questions.

He'd like to believe that Tony was getting less press now, or at least getting into less trouble and Steve was happy to be that kind of influence.

The blonde was getting better with his smart phone. He was still a slow textter, by the time he'd respond to one message, Tony would send him at least three more. It was often a losing battle, but he liked that they could stay connected throughout the day. His phone's album was steadily growing, but more frequently he found himself just enjoying the moments with Tony and less concerned about having to take pictures now.

Blue eyes were wide as they took on the spectacular grandness that was Stark Tower. Steve was glancing around curiously, head snapping from one direction to the next as various things caught his attention. He appreciated the artistic and architectural aspects more than the display of the groundbreaking technology, of course. When Steve entered Tony's penthouse, he slipped off his shoes and let out a whistle at the sheer amount of space. "Definitely big enough for you and your ego, sweetheart," he joked, following Tony to the bar.

A blush rose to his cheek as he watched his boyfriend do what he did best: _tease_ by licking up stray droplets of champagne from the bottle. Steve swallowed and wet his lips as he took the offered flute. "To us, definitely," Steve agreed warmly and took a drink of the sweet liquid.

He took a step closer to Tony and murmured, "Since you've been such a good boy and tonight's a special night, I think you deserve a treat."

* * *

If Tony hadn't been quite as thick skinned as he was, maybe the headlines would have bothered him. Surely, the media took a certain interest in the fact that Steve and him were spending a lot of time together, but Tony didn't care. He hadn't cared. When he was asked about it, Tony just shrugged, remaining neutral on the topic. He replied most often with two simple words: I'm happy. And he was. Though his habits hadn't changed much, he was genuinely happy. He looked forward to Steve's remarkably slow texts, their conversations, their soft, slow and gentle kisses. It was hard not to be happy, he was finding, with this man.

And so, it was second nature for him now to be relaxed and easy around Steve. He sipped his champagne with a soft smile, laughing to himself at Steve's earlier comment. "It's not just my ego that lives here, babe. I've got-" He blinked. "Hell, actually, I've got my suit here. D'ya want to see it? I could blow something up for you, if you wanted."

Hey, Pepper wasn't around to scold him about that, so it was fine- right?

He finished off the flute of champagne easily, the alcohol having little effect on him. He was going to pour himself another glass, but Steve was close to him- looking striking, as usual. Over the weeks, as Tony had grown comfortable, Steve had grown comfortable, too. Remarkably so- almost like he was growing into himself again. Tony attributed it to the injury; he didn't ask questions, or pry about it. He knew Steve went to a lot of appointments, and that Steve seemed to be getting better by the day. That was enough for him to go off of.

Tony placed one of his hands on Steve's chest, looking up at him with a soft smile. _Good boy._ A little tremor ran through his fingertips, his hair standing on end. He took a step closer to Tony, cheeks flushed, elated at those words. Tony was tired of being patient, as much as he wanted to be perfectly agreeable, it took a lot of restraint. Especially times like now. Tony stepped closer to him, gently placing a soft kiss on Steve's jaw, his other hand moving to hold the side of his face. "Yeah?" He breathed, pressing his lips down the side of Tony's neck, leaving firm, affectionate kisses as he went. "Tell me what you're thinking, dear. I've got a few ideas."

Dear. It was an old term. But it seemed to fit Steve, and he'd never had anyone to call his _dear_ before. Steve was making him soft, but Tony didn't mind it. His tongue lightly prodded Steve's neck, stealing the sweetness of his words for a moment as his actions sailed toward lewd territory.

* * *

Right, right! The metal suit! The _Iron Man_ suit. Steve hadn't actually seen it in person yet, but it had definitely been on his mental to do list. He hadn't wanted to be pushy about it, despite his eagerness. "No, no blowing things up, you troublemaker," Steve chided fondly. He could only imagine what the headlines would say if they somehow caught wind of Tony giving a live demonstration of the suit's capabilities to a 'civilian.' No, he didn't need to give Ms. Fellows any more ammunition against his boyfriend, thank you very much.

It was all too obvious that they had different ideas of what said treat should entail. Tony taking it as a sexual invitation as he got touchy with Steve. First a hand came to his chest, then the other one was cupping his face as a mouth kissed down his neck and it was all the blonde could do to make himself stand still and not make a sound. 'Behaving' wasn't actually a walk in the park, oh no. It took a great deal of willpower on Steve's part to police both of them. He had a working sex drive, and all their cuddling and romantic kissing with no 'finish' often led to an uncomfortable situation in the pants department. But patience built character - or at least that's the feeble argument he told himself when he had to deal with yet another case of blue balls.

"I have no doubt that _you_ have more than a few ideas," Steve somehow managed to respond, voice only slightly strained. An involuntary shiver went through him from from the feel of Tony's facial hair and breath tickling at his neck. He placed his glass on the bar's counter top and brought his hands to Tony's shoulders to gently push down his overeager pup because that same overeager pup just had _licked_ him and that felt far too tantalizing to allow it to happen again so soon. "But _my_ idea was that I could maybe... ya know... spend the night here and sleep in the same bed with you?"

He had a small smile on his lips because, even though it would be risky, having a sleepover with Tony on their anniversary delighted him. Tony _had_ been behaving, so sharing a bed was something Steve could compromise on. Tony was always telling him to lighten up, anyway.

* * *

Tony hummed, pouting a little bit at the demand to not blow things up. "Aw, come on. You can throw a vase. I'll blow it up. It'll be fun, steve."

And of course, Steve was eager to push Tony back down onto his heels, even if he too was liking what was going on. His shiver stayed with him, even when they were separated. "Yeah." He murmured in agreement to Steve's first statement, only to be rejected again. He placed his tongue in the side of his cheek, sighing through his nose. A month and a half was a long time to wait, but... He looked over his partner in subtle appreciation. He could manage it. Just a little longer.

Tony blinked at what Steve said, raising a hand to cover the broad, beaming smile that crossed his face. God, Steve was cute. "In the same bed? Really?" Tony teased, though it was good-natured. He simply found it endearing that Steve had made such a formal deal of asking for this. "Did you pack a toothbrush?" Tony asked playfully, reaching out to take one of Steve's hands. He swung their hands innocently, uncovering his smile as he spoke. "Yeah. A sleepover would be good. I can even make you my shitty version of blueberry pancakes from Frankie's tomorrow morning." He squeezed Steve's hand, beginning to pull away from him, leading him away from the bar. "But for now..."

He began to lead Steve through the penthouse, making his way down the stairs next to the elevator into his workshop. J.A.R.V.I.S. had been remarkably quiet, as the AI often was when Tony had guests over. Tony punched in the PIN to the workshop, eagerly leading Steve inside.

His workshop wasn't quite as expansive as the one in Malibu (as certainly, he didn't have a stockpile of cars- at least not here), but it was impressive nonetheless. He lead Steve over to where his suit was stored, which currently meant, stored-in-the-middle-of-the-room-where-he'd-left-it. He let go of Steve's hand, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, before jogging over to it. He was wearing jeans and a Henley sweater, meaning that he could pretty easily get into it. "Check it out." He called back, before happily suiting up.

Tony grew a bit taller and broader in the suit, but the design wasn't meant to make him _bigger_ ; rather, he looked sleek, striking even. He kept the fascia off for now, the mask pulled away from his face in a couple of different sections. "J.A.R.V.I.S., can you direct Steve to the nearest expendable flowerpot?" Tony asked, firing up his palm stabilizers. "Absolutely not, Sir, I'm afraid our inventory on expendable _anything_ is rather low, after the last-" "Shh." Tony interjected, walking toward Steve. "He means to say after the last celebratory social gathering, but I'm sure you'd be disappointed to hear that, so.."

Giving Steve an easy smile, Tony stretched out a little, rotating his palms. "So, what do you think?" He asked, rocking on his feet. "Steve meet Iron Man, Iron Man meet Steve. And- uh- do you want to come fly with me?"

* * *

He knew it wasn't really what Tony wanted, he was giving an inch and the tech genius wanted a mile, but relationships were built around compromises. Steve loathed the times he had to 'reject' Tony's advancements, because he knew how it felt to be turned away time and time again. Granted, being rejected to join the Army was a different thing than being told 'no' when hands got a little too forward.

"Yes, in the same bed," Steve rolled his eyes, knowing that the other man was just ribbing him. "And no I didn't pack anything, but I'm sure we'll manage just fine." He was okay with not being prepared because wasn't that what often happened in life? The idea hadn't occurred to him until after dinner, but Steve wasn't going to abandon it just because he hadn't had time to prepare.

He let himself be lead, still glancing around in awe at the amount of space and luxury surrounding them. The lack of personal touches struck him as odd because Tony had such a _loud_ personality, but there was nothing of that reflected here. They made their way down to what looked like a work space and there it was! Red and gold and imposing and entirely Tony's creation.

Steve stood back as Tony suited up, metal whirring and clicking into place, swallowing up his boyfriend save for the front of his face. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered under his breath, clearly impressed as he approached hesitantly, eyes roaming from the feet to a half-enclosed familiar face. He ignored the jabber between Tony and the computer person - the AI - his mind corrected. Tony had thankfully explained JARVIS to Steve so the blonde hadn't been caught off guard when the voice piped up out of nowhere.

"It's beautiful," Steve commented when Tony - _Iron Man_ \- stopped in front of him. "You're really somthin', did ya know that?" He ran his fingertips up a polished metal arm. "Nice to meet you, Iron Man and of course, knock my socks off, fly me to the moon." Grinning, he connected their mouths with a sweet kiss.

* * *

Tony looked at Steve with a bright smile, laughing at the exclamation. God, Steve was too sweet. He wasn't surprised by the hesitation in his eyes, however; many had seen the suit as a weapon. Few understood it the way Tony did- as defense- as a peacekeeping measure, maybe the most effective of them all in decades. He also took credit for a lower overall crime rate, due to him busting some small-time criminals out of sheer boredom. It wasn't what he preferred to be doing; after all, Stark Industries had always worked on the international level, with national customers. He (mostly) applied the same kind of strategy to his duties as Iron Man.

A smile crossed his lips. "Who're you calling beautiful? I'm, Steve, not _It's._ " Tony laughed, playfully correcting him after he spoke. The smile only grew at what Steve said, cheeks flushing as he blushed in response. He gave him a peck on the cheek at the sweet compliment, a metal plated hand moving to take Steve's in his own. The suit was polished and well calibrated; he had the same dexterity and spatial awareness in it as he did out of it. There was very low risk of him accidentally crushing Steve's hand due to his exponentially increased strength, for example.

"Yeah. I knew it before, but..." He paused, pressing his nose against Steve's cheek. "You make me feel it."

Chuckling softly, he leant into the kiss for a minute, heart racing. God, this was nice. The life he had now wasn't what he would have been even able to begin to imagine a couple of years ago, but it was so much better than he could have been able to dream up. While he still battled quite a few demons, knowing that his work did _good_ \- that it no longer killed innocent people- made him feel good. And Steve? Steve was the sweetest surprise he could have been given. _Thanks, universe._

He kept their lips together for another moment, before pulling away. He wrapped one arm around Steve, guiding Steve's arms around his neck. "I hope you know that I literally mean I'm going to fly you somewhere special. Like. This isn't a metaphor. We're going to go fly over Manhattan and your job for the next twenty minutes is to not fall. Okay?"

Before Steve could agree, Tony slipped his facia down, the mask enclosing his face. Without much flair, Tony fired the thrusters in his legs and feet, lifting them a few meters off the ground. He held Steve close to him with one arm, doing his best to maneuver with two feet and one hand. By now, he'd gotten so used to it that it was fine; within minutes, they left the Tower, setting out over the sky.

Now, this was extremely dangerous, and there was a huge part of him that was genuinely terrified of _dropping Steve_. Especially with Steve clinging to him like a ragdoll. Hoping Steve wouldn't protest too much, he maneuvered him in midair, scooping Steve bridal-style into his arms. "Hold onto me." He instructed, voice mechanical from its projection behind the mask. He felt much more comfortable like this, holding Steve in his arms the way he did, as they flew over the skyline. Surely, a couple of cell phone pictures would be taken of them, as it was kind of hard to miss Iron Man streaking across the sky with a man in his arms.

Tony was quiet as they flew, knowing Steve would likely be unable to hear him as they went. He approached the Empire State Building, landing a soft landing on the terrace of the 103rd floor. As he caught his breath, he kept Steve in his arms for a moment, mask sliding back to reveal his face. "Look, I didn't drop you. Go me." He smiled, leaning in to kiss him while he held Steve in his arms.

* * *

Even for Steve who had stepped into a pod and came out in a stronger, bigger and faster body, it was a lot to take in. He felt even more like he had been sucked into a strange science fiction film watching Tony _become_ Iron Man. He'd seen still images and YouTube videos of the suit before, but in person it was entirely another thing to behold. Steve couldn't fathom the intricacies that were involved in constructing such an invention. Frankly, he was in awe.

His hand was being enclosed in a larger mechanical one and it should have probably been strange, but Steve grasped it back - it was still his Tony inside the suit. _See, Ms. Fellows, I'm embracing the future just fine._ Yeah, he'd probably not share the more intimate details like this with her, but he had been proudly listing off the various places they had visited during the past weeks.

 _"You make me feel it_."

Hearing that was a happy punch to Steve's gut. Thankfully they were kissing and he channelled the surge of emotion into that instead of fumbling for something to say. While his day to day life was about reintegrating into the present, Steve's personal mission was to make Tony happy and healthier. The blonde thought he was doing a pretty decent job overall, especially given that romantic relationships were not something he was experienced in.

Now, what was strange was being _carried_ . The slow controlled ascension to flying? Not so much. Steve was used to being able to rely on his now very capable body, but he was completely dependent on Tony during this activity. He trusted the other man implicitly though and clung on. "Okay, I promise not to fall like a sack of bricks and make you attempt a daring heroic save," Steve replied and just like that they were _flying_.

And it got weirder, but no doubt safer when Tony-Iron-Man repositioned him, being whisked off like a dame on a her wedding day. Steve chuckled, but he could see the practicality of the change and didn't fight it. The evening air whooshed around him and he was torn between watching the emotionless mask of the suit, wondering what was going on in Tony's head and glancing below at the world beneath them.

When he was placed down, Steve mumbled a "whoa" under his breath as he adjusted to being vertical again. Tony helped steady him and Steve smiled, eyes warm and wide. "I didn't doubt your abilities for a second," Steve murmured, kissing back chastely. "Your Father would be so proud of you, Tony," he added when he broke away. " _I'm_ so proud of you."

* * *

For someone who was used to being grounded, Tony was surprised by how easily Steve took to flying. He didn't start screaming, or shaking, or otherwise act in a terrified manner. Tony took it as a testament to the other man's trust in him; Steve trusted him enough to not feel like Tony was going to let him fall. It was flattering, and in a way, overwhelming. Tony just hoped he didn't disgrace that trust. For the most part, Tony was looking st Steve from behind the mask, watching the shadows and lights of the city illuminate his face, one by one.

He trusted J.A.R.V.I.S. to not let them go through a building, or anything ridiculous like that.

Breaking into a wide smile at the quiet _whoa_ Steve gave once he was settled down, Tony rocked back and forth on his feet slightly, feeling a little bit antsy. It was rare that he wasn't in a high pressure situation while wearing the suit; thus, he was subconsciously on high alert. Only, this time, Steve was his target, instead of an enemy or a group of street thugs.

He eventually let Steve down, though he would be lying if he said he didn't want to keep him there. It felt kind of weird to have the upper hand for once, but even so, he would have judged Steve as maybe standing a slight chance against the suit. Certainly, he was buff, and if he knew how to use it? Then, yeah, he wouldn't go down quite as easily as some-

And here Tony was, thinking tactically about how he would beat up his boyfriend if he ever chose to attack him. Tony gave his head a subtle shake, before smiling at what he said next.

"Good." He murmured, pressing his nose to Steve's once they broke the kiss. However, he paused at what Steve said, drawing back a little to pull his brows together. Right. Howard. Steve was a fan of Howard, and Tony needed to get over Howard, because hell if it didn't hold him back to some degree- keep him from thinking clearly on occasion, or holding healthy relationships-

But then came a much better admission. That Steve was proud of him. Tony let his shoulders fall a little, looking much more pleased with that statement. "Thank you, Steve." He spoke sincerely, tone without a hint of sarcasm or jest. He leant in to give Steve a light kiss on the forehead, then the nose.

"I don't.. I don't entirely know what Dad would think. I mean, the company was his legacy and-" Tony sighed through his nose. "Well, the company and the Manhattan Project, and Captain America, and a few other things, I guess." Tony shrugged. "I don't know if he'd agree with the direction I've taken the company in. But I'd at least hope he'd be open to understanding, or seeing things the way I've seen them, especially after..."

Tony swallowed hard. He didn't want to talk about that. Not now.

Instead, he stepped close to Steve. "Look what I've got for you." He laughed, blushing as the suit's external speakers began to play a song. Of course, he'd been obnoxious enough to give the suit _external speakers_. The song in question was 'It's Only A Paper Moon' by Ella Fitzgerald. "I couldn't help but find music that reminded me of you after all those dances in your apartment..."

Tony paused, before letting out a loud, playful laugh. "This is going to sound crazy but- would you- do you- want to dance? I mean, it's not every day that you get to dance with a potential national security threat or Godsend. You know. However ya' wanna look at it."

* * *

One day he'd remember that Howard Stark was a sore point for Tony and stop occasionally bringing the topic up. Steve really should have known better, but in his excitement it had slipped out. Of course he was curious about why there was resentment in the first place, couldn't help the desire to understand and possibly fix, but what could Steve really hope to do? The dead remained dead, and too often misunderstandings could only be let go, not worked through.

Thankfully, his next statement seemed to please Tony, not that that had been Steve's intent, because it was also the truth: Steve was proud of Tony. His boyfriend was amazing, had been through so much and done more than just survive - he came out a better man. That wasn't always the case. He knew Tony preferred to downplay it all, claiming he'd just done what any other man would have done in his situation and with his resources, but Steve knew that wasn't the case. Tragedy and trauma often broke men, crippled them and destroyed hope for a better future. Tony, however, wanted to build a better future.

"You may be a Stark, but you're your own man. I would think anyone's father would be proud and respect their son's courage to forge out a different path." Steve smiled genuinely, believing every word of what he was saying.

Tony had specifically picked music that reminded him of Steve. The blonde was completely endeared. A sappy song, high up on the Empire State building, and his sweetheart asking him dance? It was the kind of romance that he felt a little silly about indulging, but thrilled him nonetheless.Tony was a giftgiver, delighted in making and showing off his tech things that he designed for Steve, but this? This was _thoughtful,_ this was _for_ Steve _._ The gesture won him over so completely and made Steve realize he was, most definitely, falling in love.

"I don't think I'll be dipping you this time around," he commented, but grinned. "Let's give it a go then, Mr. Potential-National-Security-Threat-Slash-Godsend, or who I like to simply call _my_ _boyfriend_."

* * *

The scorn that rested in his heart from his father had faded in time. Part of it was the discovery of the element that kept him alive; the other part was Howard's admission to maybe, somewhat, caring about him. He was still learning to let go of the decades of tension between them, and in all honesty, Tony wasn't sure if he'd ever fully release what he felt inside of him when that name was brought up. Those feelings ran deep, and were second nature. He wished he'd have asked a few things before he'd passed, but he'd have to come to terms with what he'd never be able to say, and what he'd never be able to hear.

Tony gave Steve a sweet smile at his next statement however, leaning in for a soft peck after his words. "Thank you." He breathed, glancing over Steve's face. "I hope that's what he'd think, too." He'd never get to know, but... Howard had been an innovator. He could respect Tony's style of innovation, couldn't he?

Smile cracking across his face, Tony pulled Steve close, encouraging him to step his feet atop of the feet of the suit in a sickeningly sweet way. His hands moved down, keeping his arms around Steve as they swayed a little bit. Tony was awful at dancing, but as the song went on, he managed to give Steve a dip and a quick kiss, as well as a spin. Well, he was awful at this kind of dancing. This kind of easy, soft, sweet-

"You're beautiful, you know that?"

Tony spoke quietly, leaning in once the song was over. The music was replaced by the sound of the wind and the traffic below. Worried that Steve might get cold, Tony kept his back to the city, having a view of just Steve and the building. His face was illuminated by the lights and his Arc reactor and oh, was that a sight. "I mean it. Not just in a.. just-to-me-way. You're perfect, Steve." He confessed, glancing over his lover's face. Steve had called him his _boyfriend_. He supposed he could return the favor and begin to call him that, too.

"Thank you for putting up with me for this long, darling."

* * *

Their romantic moment didn't end, continuing to stretch out, Steve's heart fluttering in his chest as he let Tony/Iron Man/his boyfriend take the lead and support him as he placed his feet on top of metal boots. It was something a dame would have done in the past, but he didn't mind. Tony was his, he was Tony's, and they swayed gently to the crooning music that had been picked out with the intention to woo him.

And Steve Rogers _was_ wooed, completely, a permanent smile fixed on his face as they swayed. And then he was being called beautiful, pulled in close while the music winded down and he swallowed past a lump forming in his throat. _Perfect?_ He didn't think so. He'd made plenty of mistakes and would continue to make them because Steve may have been a supersoldier, but he was still human. He did, however, feel that they were perfect for _each other,_ and he felt sappy and comfortable enough to say as much.

"Nah, not perfect, but I think we're perfect for each other," Steve murmured truthfully, closing the distance between them and pressing a kiss to Tony's mouth. "And I don't 'put up with you,' I'm here because I want to be. And anyway, you're not _that_ much of a handful." He laughed warmly. Tony was quirky, yes, tested his resolve frequently, but he kept Steve on his toes and he would accept those intricacies.  


	5. The Steve Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So terrific that Tony didn't care about the fact that he was still achingly hard, or that his mouth was sore, or the mess that spread between their chests as Steve held him. All that mattered was how hard Tony was smiling, and that Steve was smiling back at him, and praising him in the most adorably rambly fashion. Tony was still catching his breath, hair plastered to his forehead in some spots, sticking straight up in others. A shiver ran down his spine at the rough texture of Steve's voice, contrasting with the smoothness he'd become used to. "I did a number on ya, eh?" Tony laughed, his laughter muffled by Steve's lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut finally! 8) Yay! Bumped the story's rating up too, weeeee to the 'E'! =D  
> Co-written, "M" writes smexy Tony, I write Steve.

Their high altitude date stretched on with Steve held close to the marvellous metal suit containing one boyfriend, Anthony Stark. They kissed in between admiring the spectacular lights of the city, both flush from the night air and their liplocking activities. The more he caught himself falling for Tony, the greater desire Steve felt to come clean, but now he had this horrible fear that he had lied for too long and that no apology or reasoning could atone for what would surely look like a grand betrayal.

He was glad when they set off back to Stark Tower, needing a bit of a reprieve from the sweetness, from gazing too deeply into brown eyes that wanted to compel the truth from him. Steve would need to steel himself, find some inner strength to keep up the façade, because it certainly wasn't going to get easier as the time went on. Maybe he could breach the subject with Ms. Fellows on the next appointment. Maybe she'd surprise him and actually be allowed to tell a single soul that Captain America hasn't died in the ocean back in '45, that Steve Rogers was _alive_ here and now.

They were now in Tony's room, lights dimmed low as they both began to undress for the next phase of their night: sharing a bed. He brought no sleep clothes, but Steve had no plans on continuing to wear what he had gone out to dinner in. He slipped off his dress shirt, folded it, and then his pants and socks joined the neat pile of his things. It didn't matter that he _knew_ he wasn't his tiny frail self anymore, there was always a bit of trepidation that remained when getting near naked around others and it clawed up the same as ever.

Standing clad only in plaid boxers, it was the most skin he had ever shown to Tony. Steve couldn't even apologise and explain his nervousness because those feelings were wound up in a history he had to keep under lock and key, and it was just all goddamn frustrating that he had to continue to lie to someone who was steadily opening up to him and _trusting_ him and --

Steve strode across the bedroom to Tony who for some reason was still dressed and one hand grasped his waist tugging him closer, the other grabbing at dark brunet strands to tip his head up as Steve leaned down and first nipped at Tony's bottom lip. "I think you actually deserve a bit more," Steve murmured before kissing him hard. His heart was racing knowing that this wouldn't be another gentle make out session. He didn't know _where_ it was going, truthfully, he just wanted to make Tony feel good and quiet his own worried mind.

* * *

Tony had loved flying with him; loved seeing the lights, and the city, and the exhilaration on Steve's face. Steve had the best damn poker face Tony had ever seen, but he could tell that Steve was at the least, happy. Anything else was a mystery. He thought Steve might have been thinking about something, as there was a bit of depth to the blueness of his eyes, but Tony be damned if he knew what. He still couldn't quite get past the set in Steve's jaw or the distance that sometimes appeared in his eyes.

He assumed that it had to do with the injury, but.. that gaze always seemed to hold more than just something biological. That far-away look haunted Tony more often than not, but how could he bring it up without offending Steve? Or at worst, it could legitimately be a side effect of the accident, and Tony was just overthinking himself by wanting to ask about it. It was probably fine. After all, Steve always came out of it, with a smile and a kiss or some sort of action that tended to break the worries that Tony had.

They got back to the Tower after a good hour of talking, dancing, and laughing. As usual, Tony almost felt bad when he got out of the suit; it was certainly a security blanket for him, and something about being weak again didn't quite sit well with him. At least tonight he had Steve with him. Tall, broad, handsome Steve. He admired his _boyfriend_ (that word would take some getting used to) as they walked back out from Tony's workshop, heading up a couple flights of stairs to get to Tony's bedroom. Like everything else in the house, it was sleek and modern, with no personal touches aside from some professionally-crafted Iron Man fanart that hung framed on the walls of his room. That, and the California King bed was undeniably Tony in its soft extravagance.

He stood in front of the glossy white doors of his closet, about to strip down. He was fumbling with his belt, unsure of if he should really get as undressed as he usually did when he slept. Something about Proper Steve told him that maybe Steve would sleep dressed, and God, it would be weird if Tony's naked body was curled around Steve's much bigger one-

But then Steve was walking up to him, as told by his suddenly heavy footsteps, prompting Tony to turn to face him. And- the determination in those eyes sent a shudder down his spine. "F-fuck-" Tony exclaimed, a startled gasp coming from him when Steve  yanked his head back without prompting. And he was- he was as close to naked as Tony figured he could get. He more than eagerly returned the kiss, lip feeling fat and flushed from where Steve had _bit him._ His arms weakly went up to loop around Steve's neck, his smaller body pushed up to Steve's eagerly.

His hands began to trail down Steve's back, feeling the soft texture of his skin, and the muscles that thrummed just beneath. "Steve-" Tony gasped, breaking the kiss to breathlessly plead with him. He pulled back to glance up at him, before wordlessly moving, taking off his shirt.

There was always some hesitation in him when it came to stripping down. A part of him still thought the reactor looked like an ugly, mechanical anomaly. He couldn't touch his chest without feeling its cold, smooth edges protruding from his skin. But at the same time, it was a marvel of technology. The element his father had left for him was keeping him alive. It was just as much a part of him as his fingernails or his facial hair, but it still made him uncomfortable. The glow from it reflected off of Steve's pale chest; that made him nervous. He guided one of Steve's hands to his hips, leaning up to kiss him again, mouth eager and demanding.

* * *

He wanted this. Good Lord, did he ever. Steve felt the hot curl of arousal, the rush of blood southward and wasn't even ashamed that mere kissing was enough to get him hard. They had been denying each other for _weeks_ now and he was a relatively young male with a healthy sex drive. He was sure Tony didn't mind, anyhow. Hands roamed down his back and Steve made an appreciative sound, encouraging Tony to touch, to explore.

Then Tony was pulling back, Steve frowning momentarily in confusion before the smaller man was slipping off his shirt and Steve could get behind that. A circular glowy device of some sort seemed embedded in Tony's chest and Steve's eyes flicked down curiously. This apparently was a secret that hadn't been shared until now, but Tony was allowing him to glimpse it, barring a mysterious part of himself to Steve. The blonde knew better to gawk, so he smiled reassuringly at Tony, eyes warm.

He gave into the kiss willingly, hands gripping tightly at bare hip bones, fingertips rubbing small circles into Tony's skin. Steve had no problem letting his boyfriend take the lead in the kiss, letting Tony lick into his mouth as he pressed closer to that lean body, relishing in the feel of his erection digging into Tony, showing just how much Steve _was_ into this, wanting to banish any doubt that his earlier displays of rejection or restraint may have brought the other man.

When the broke away, Steve licked playfully at Tony's mouth before softly commenting, "You're overdressed, sweetheart. Never thought there would be a day where I stripped down before you did." He let his hands slide around to the front, unbuttoning Tony's trousers and then slowly dragging the zipper down. "When you want to, you can tell me about your... Glowy invention, yeah?" His blue eyes glanced down at the strange object quickly. He wouldn't push for an explanation, but he'd make sure Tony knew he wasn't disgusted by it or scared of it. A beat later, his hands stopping on the removal of the other man's pants to ask, "It's okay if I touch it?"

* * *

A nervous smile broke over Tony's face when Steve wasn't frightened off by the reactor. Tony hadn't known what to expect when it had come to Steve finally seeing it- Steve knew so little of technology, he could almost see Steve freaking out and calling him a robot, or finding it creepy. Those thoughts melted away at Steve's soft smile, and then his actions.

He shivered as Steve nonchalantly _prodded him with his dick,_ but it was fine because it told Tony that he wasn't messing around. That Tony wouldn't be on his lap, begging for him, and Steve wouldn't be turning him away. For once. And as great as it might have been for Steve to wait, Tony was much more excited about this. He left one of his hands on his back, the other going to Steve's chest, feeling his body appreciatively. His _abs_ were enough to make Tony's own erection twitch in his pants- goddamn- Steve was perfect and Tony wasn't figuring out just how perfect until right now. He felt over Steve's body, though he stayed away from the heat that waited for him south of his boyfriend's navel; Steve had taken his goddamn time with this, and Tony wasn't about to lose his composure so easily.

"Me either." He laughed, voice timid as Steve's big hands were going right for Tony's pants. He glanced over Steve's body- his shoulders, his collarbones, the swell of his chest, the definition of his abdomen- and swallowed hard. He was nervous, though he'd be too proud to admit that if asked. This meant a lot to him. He began to push Steve toward his bed, hands placed on his shoulders, making him backpedal and take shaky steps backward until Steve's calves hit the bed.

Though, his plan was broken by Steve's sweet words. He looked up at his boyfriend, biting the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, you can touch it." He paused, looking over Steve's face. Now was a good as time as any, he supposed.

"It's keeping me alive." He spoke. "There are.. tiny pieces of shrapnel in my chest from.." He couldn't say the words. Not right now. Not when Steve was this close to him and he was already overwhelmed; god, what if he started crying? Tony pressed his hands to Steve's strong abdomen, feeling his abs instead. That was pretty grounding. "A while ago. Anyway." He blinked. "I'd be dead without it. It's a little..." How did he explain this? "Generator, that keeps me going, and-" Steve would like this. Tony usually wouldn't admit this, but he knew of Steve's strange connection to Howard, so.. "My dad kinda.. saved my life. He left an element behind for me when he died, it keeps this thing going. Asshole's still one step ahead, even from six feet under."

* * *

Steve could tell Tony liked what he was seeing and feeling, warm brown eyes gazing over exposed skin as Tony all but pawed his chest and shoulders. Steve was flattered by the obvious attention because he may not have cared for the leering looks from random strangers, but he wanted this man in front of him, his boyfriend, to certainly approve of the outer packaging, so to speak.

He allowed himself to be moved, enjoying that he wasn't the only one eager in the room tonight as he backed up to the foot of the large bed. Upon getting permission to touch, Steve's right hand raised, but stopped in its course because Tony started speaking, giving an explanation on what the crazy thing actually _was._

Steve was touched that his boyfriend was choosing to share in the heat of the moment - he certainly hadn't had to. The blonde could tell that there was a wealth of emotion that came with the story (as well as more of the story itself), Tony seeming shaken up by the few sentences he had given. Steve's fingers gently caressed the blue glowing device, a small warmth radiating from it. When Tony's father was mentioned, Steve almost let a, 'Well, that's Howard for ya' out, but thankfully he clamped his mouth shut in time. That wouldn't have been good at all.

"You continue to surprise me," Steve settled on saying and he ducked his head down, kissing the juncture of where the metal met with the skin of Tony's chest. He licked around the edge slowly, heart pounding away, before pressing a reverent kiss to the middle of the generator-of-sorts. Whatever it was, it was keeping his man alive and that was frankly astounding and alarming. Illuminated by the blue glow, he looked up through his eyelashes at Tony. "I sure got me a special someone," he chuckled softly, licking a stripe from the older man's collarbone to his neck.

* * *

There was a visible tremble that ran through Tony when Steve kissed the meeting of skin and metal; no one had done that before. And not only that, but he- his tongue was all over him. Maybe the most fragile part of him. The part that walked the line between life and death, that had been stolen from and returned to him. He blinked at what Steve said, looking all but overwhelmed.

Tony Stark had never been a frigid man. Hell, he'd been the first in his friend group at boarding school to hit _third base_ . He'd been openly both desirable and desired, and so he figured that this should have been like any other time. But this wasn't any other time. This was Steve, and Steve was perfect, and Steve was telling him that Tony was not only _his_ but that Tony was special and that thought made Tony's heart pound and knees quake-

Channeling that nervousness into action, Tony planted his hands on Steve's shoulders, pushing the other man back. "Down." He breathed, playfully, his smirk glinting in the dim light. He climbed onto Steve's lap, pushing Steve down onto the bed, so that he was sitting on the edge of it. He straddled Steve's hips, bare legs against Steve's thighs, abandoning his pants between Steve's feet as he'd climbed up onto him. He slung his arms around Steve's neck, taking a moment to kiss him deeply, revel in him, play with his tongue and moan into his mouth as he ground down on him.

That momentary grinding was broken as Tony continued to push on Steve's body, easing him back. "I wanna-" He gasped, breaking the kiss. "Make you feel-" Another kiss, to his jaw, his neck. Tony kissed down the larger man's body, moving down, settling on the floor between Steve's legs. "So good." His hands felt over those abs, his hips. He didn't touch him quite yet, instead looking at him from where he was knelt, hot breath rolling over Steve's still clothed cock.

"Does that sound good to you?"

* * *

He hadn't licked or kissed many technological wonders in his day (or any, actually), so he was a little unsure of how Tony would react to it. When he felt a full body shudder from the other man, Steve was hoping he hadn't crossed a boundary and made things _weird_. He seemed to have a knack for that, at least when he was dealing with others who weren't as understanding of his obliviousness about certain things.

But then Tony seemed to be back on his game, being pushy and grinning and Steve was alright with that, could handle his boyfriend taking the lead in this because well... His experience with sex was limited and it was even more so when it involved males. He'd only kissed one other man before and received a rather awkward handjob after said make-out session. Let it be known that fooling around in Army tents where the risk of being caught was a realistic danger made for strenuous sexual exploration at the very least.

He lowered himself to the bed and a soft "ohhh" left Steve's mouth as Tony fluidly finished removing his pants and pretty much climbed into his lap... and wasn't that fantastic? Steve wrapped his arms around Tony's back, holding him close, relishing in the skin on skin contact. The kiss was hot and wet, Tony's facial hair a little scratchy, but Tony's tongue made up for it. Good Lord, the man could kiss and it was pure heaven feeling their almost naked cocks rub against each other and just knowing that they both were both clearly so aroused was intoxicating.

Steve laid back willingly, didn't need to be told twice because Tony was slithering down his body, pressing kisses along the journey and ohmygod Tony was between his legs, hands so close, but avoiding touching where he _really_ wanted it. It took Steve's brain a moment to process what had been said and asked, but eventually he got his mouth working. "Y-yeah, it does," he mumbled, dazed eyes staring at the ceiling. Regaining a little composure, he added, "Please... but only if you want to, if you're okay with it, sweetheart."

* * *

Tony moved his hands down Steve’s thighs, admiring the strength that rested within them. Steve was something to be admired- he had the body a younger Tony would have wanted for himself, perhaps. But he’d grown more comfortable with his slender athleticism as he’d gotten older, and surely, both ladies and men hadn’t seemed to mind Tony’s build. He placed a soft kiss beneath Steve’s navel, tongue moving down, gliding across the waistband of Steve’s boxers. His cock was pressed rather unceremoniously against Tony’s neck as he did so, but Tony was beyond caring.

 _Sweetheart_. God.

Tony’s eyes flicked up. He moved his hand, finally encasing his hand around Steve’s cock, beginning to stroke him through his boxers. He was so hot and thick and sturdy; it made Tony shiver a little. His perfect boyfriend. “Of course I’m okay with it. I’m—“ He gave him a bit of a squeeze, again noting the thickness. “I’m so beyond okay. I want you so bad, Steve.”

Finally, he released him, hands moving to slip Steve boxer’s off. He rolled them down Steve’s hips, admiring the protrusions of as they were revealed. And of course- Tony eagerly took him in as his cock unfurled from his boxers, prompting Tony to stifle a little inhale of nervous air he took at the sight of _that._ “Jesus Christ.” He mumbled, startled by the confirmation of the size that he’d felt.

He wrapped one of his hands around the base of Steve’s cock, knowing there was no way in hell he was going to be able to cram it down his throat right from the get go. “Tell me how good this feels, babe.” He murmured, flicking his gaze back up at him. “Am I the first one to do this for you?” He asked, before leaning in, taking a long, lazy lick up the side of Steve’s cock as he squeezed the base.

That was the last thing he had to say. He was too nervous and too aroused to say much else. He guided one of Steve’s hands to the back of his head, encouraging him to take a little control there, before eagerly moving his lips over Steve’s cock. He eagerly began to suck and stroke the base, dipping his head down as far as he dared to go; currently, he gave content, muffled moans as Steve hit the back of his throat. The nervousness was replaced by sloppy arousal as he lifted his lips from Steve’s cock, giving him a sultry grin as he slapped it against his cheek, leaving a moist swath of spit there.

* * *

When a hand grazed his clothed erection, Steve let out a gasp, but quickly clamped his mouth shut. That slight attention had him thrumming with anticipation of what Tony would do. Would he just touch him with his hand, or use his mouth too? He wasn't a virgin, but there hadn't been a lot of opportunities that he took since the serum. Steve could count on his hand the number of times that he'd been touched by someone other than himself. Whatever did transpire, he was very certain it would be incredible.

And then Tony's hand was moving and Steve's eyes were pressed tightly shut, working hard to hold back any sounds. Tony's arousal had been evident before, but it was another thing entirely to to hear it _and_ have it be acted upon _now_. The touch didn't last too long, but that was okay, because his boxers were being removed and Steve lifted his hips to aid the task. He heard an exclamation follow, a blush coming to his face and he said nothing in response. What was there really to say? He'd heard a few size comments before, but he was no expert be matter.

A grasp around his cock was felt, Tony impressing upon him that he wanted to _hear_ his thoughts. The blonde hadn't ever been vocal or expressive during his past sexual experiences, but he forced himself to at least respond to the question. "S-second time," Steve answered with a content sigh that turned into a choked noise after a hot wet tongue slid against him. Once again, he sealed his mouth shut. His hand was placed on Tony's head and he worked his fingers into the soft brunet strands, tugging a little, but still hesitant to get pushy.

The engulfing heat of Tony's mouth was exquisite, his boyfriend proving his skill with seeming ease, taking him inch by inch. Steve's other hand gripped at the comforter while he clenched his jaw, breathing quickly through his nostrils. He didn't think he would last that long, but then that tight, wet mouth was moving off, Steve's eyes opening and head tilting up to peer down in confusion--

 _Thwap._ Tony had just slapped his own cheek with the Steve's spit slick dick and the blonde's mouth fell open. He was speechless because it was such a... such a... naughty thing to do. " _Fuck,"_ the curse slipped out far too easily and it was enough to egg him on, Steve's hand nudging Tony's head back down to his cock, the tip of it rubbing against gorgeous lips.

* * *

He'd managed to get Steve to swear. _Finally._ After his half-measures or exclamations that never quite hit the mark, Steve had finally said it. And it was because Tony had slapped his cock against his cheek and decidedly that was _good_ \- he'd wanted this for so long- his own body ached in refused anticipation as Steve guided his face back to his cock, perhaps finally enacting whatever lewd thoughts went on behind those blue eyes. If any. Tony let his tongue slide across the head of Steve's dick, teasing him, tasting the jarring bitterness of precum on his tip.

"Fuck, babe, you're so hot."

The words were vapid but not in their meaning. It was the most Tony could muster right now. How could he properly get across to him, in this moment, that he adored the flush in Steve's cheeks? The repressed, but pervasive moans Steve bit back, the sounds of his breathing, taut like a bowstring, his chest heaving and his abdomen flexed. Perhaps he could have called him _beautiful_ , but that felt wrong, that word would be reserved for something else, like maybe tomorrow morning or a shower together or waking up next to him-

Weird. He was still gliding his tongue across the side of Steve's dick, lips wrapping and sucking at the broadness of his shaft, and yet he was thinking all these thoughts that had nothing to do with sex and yet they were just as arousing as any other thought he could be having. _The Steve Effect._

But Steve had said this was his second blowjob, and damn if that didn't rise Tony's competitive nature. He was quick to go down on him again, closing his eyes and giving a startled moan as he attempted to deepthroat him, a strained choking sound coming from him. But he kept trying- continued to suppress his gag reflex in order to swallow Steve whole, fingertips squeezing the base of Steve's cock. His own hand moved, from keeping balance to resting on the base of his own cock, stroking himself through his boxer briefs as a desperate attempt for some relief. In between thoughts of how goddamn sexy Steve was and how much he couldn't wait to do this again, Steve was cumming- and Tony lifted his lips to watch him, raising his chest.

Steve's cum spurted across Tony's chest, across the reactor, as Tony gazed down at him. He couldn't help it. People were vulnerable when they came, and Steve was no different. He leaned down, wiping his face to give him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, murmuring lewdly to him, "Good boy."

* * *

He could sense Tony's astonishment and achievement at getting him to use of that particular curse word. Steve momentarily thought back to a silly conversation they had had early on where Tony was trying to get Steve to utter the word 'fuck' and Steve, naturally, had adamantly refused stating, " _If and when I do say it, I'm gonna have a good reason."_ He was pretty sure this counted as a good reason.

The caress of a tongue against the slit on his dick had Steve's head dropping back against the bed in defeat, pulling on Tony's hair appreciatively. _Fuck_ was right. This was intense and beat out any fantasy he could have tried to come up with. And then, somehow, it only got more _fucking_ amazing because Tony - and he had no idea how he was doing it - was taking him deeper and deeper. Steve could feel the slight convulse of a throat around his cock, Tony trying valiantly to not gag on him and oh my Lord Steve's brain had to be on overdrive, the sensations almost an onslaught of 'too much' and 'too good'. His mouth slipped open and he was panting, tapping on Tony's head in a warning before the pleasure overtook him, pushing him over the edge. That sinfully hot mouth was removed and he was distantly aware that he was probably coming all over Tony. (It wasn't a bad thought).

Steve was left gasping, blue eyes blinking open from the haze of sexual satisfaction settling over him. "Fuck... W-wow..." He stammered, voice sounding rough to his own ears. He gathered Tony into his arms, hauling the smaller man on top of him, ignoring the feel of sticky jizz rubbing between them.  

"That was amazing, thank you sweetheart, your mouth, good heavens..." Steve laughed a little, realising he was babbling like a goof. He rolled Tony over onto his back so he could look at him better, smiling down, completely smitten. A kiss would certainly show his thanks too, wouldn't it? So, that's what Steve did, connecting their mouths in a heated liplock, ignoring the taste of himself on Tony's tongue.

* * *

There were too many sensations to take in at once and so, he found himself processing them as Steve wrapped his arms around him. Steve had _pulled his hair_ and damn if that wasn't one of the best feelings in the world; maybe second to the feeling of Steve obscenely cumming across his chest, or the feeling in the pit of Tony's stomach as Steve cursed again. He looked over his boyfriend's face as he was moved, laughing softly to himself at how quick Steve was to absolutely maul him. It was terrific.

So terrific that Tony didn't care about the fact that he was still achingly hard, or that his mouth was sore, or the mess that spread between their chests as Steve held him. All that mattered was how hard Tony was smiling, and that Steve was smiling back at him, and praising him in the most adorably rambly fashion. Tony was still catching his breath, hair plastered to his forehead in some spots, sticking straight up in others. A shiver ran down his spine at the rough texture of Steve's voice, contrasting with the smoothness he'd become used to. "I did a number on ya, eh?" Tony laughed, his laughter muffled by Steve's lips.

Tony kissed him back, wrapping his arms around Steve's neck, his erection prodding Steve's abs as he wrapped his legs around him, too. He'd been waiting for this. And while Tony would never argue that waiting made anything better, maybe it did. Maybe it made their kiss sweeter, knowing that Steve wanted him for more than a night; that maybe he wanted him for several nights in a row, and days, too. And everything else. It at least gave the lines of flirtation Tony had been spitting at him for the past few weeks worth something, that he'd finally lived up to them. _My mouth is good for a lot of things, sweetheart-_ spoken after a press conference- Steve had only known to compliment him on his speaking skills and not his _oral_ skills, then.

Oral dictation. Heh.

Tony pulled back to look up at Steve's face, his hands sliding to cup his face in his hands. "Can we agree to no more waiting? _Please?"_ Tony gasped. Yes, he was begging, but-- " _Steve,_ please." -whatever dignity he had left had been thrown out one of the many windows in Stark Tower. "I can't... can't go back to.. not-this. Not anymore. Fuck, Steve, you're so perfect, I-" He was rambling. He was hard. He felt jittery, like his fingertips were charged with electricity. He could have said a certain arrangement of words that might have ruined or completed everything, but he didn't, writing it off as arousal and tension.

Instead, he kissed him again, rolling his hips up to grind them against Steve's.

* * *

"A number on me? Somethin' like that, Tony," Steve replied, lips pulling into a huge smile. It had certainly been one of the best feelings since coming out of the ice. More than the sexual pleasure aspect, it held a newfound intimacy for Tony and himself and that's what Steve really thrived on. The _closeness_ was a beautiful thing, the feel of skin against skin, and even the reveal of the device that was set in Tony's chest, that too, was beautiful to know. Little by little Tony showed more of  himself to Steve, exposed another deeper layer, and it, honest to God, was breaking Steve's heart a little that he, too, couldn't be as transparent.

The press of an insistent erection on his stomach had Steve redirecting his focus back to the present. Tony was all but clinging to him, arms and legs wrapped around him, and Steve, unlike the times before, relished in it. Tony was lean and firm underneath him, a little wiggly, but that was to be expected given how hard he still felt. It was a heady feeling to know he was solely responsible for his boyfriend's arousal.

Tony's near begging that they don't return to how things had been brought out a softening in Steve's face. He didn't think he _could_ have managed to exert the same level of self-control now that they had crossed the line and dipped their toes into sexual desire. More than toes, probably, at least half their bodies, Steve reflected wryly.

He couldn't get out a reply because Tony was surging up and kissing him again - which Steve didn't really have problem with. Unlike the kisses of the past, these were more demanding, scorching and made Steve shudder. He tried to match the intensity of Tony as best as he could, picking up on the kinds of things his boyfriend seemed to like (nipping at the bottom lip excited Tony, licking, but pulling away frustrated him, but in a good way). Eventually, Steve broke away because he did want to answer the other man.

"Yeah, no more waiting," he agreed, eyes bright and smiling. He felt happy about this progression, it felt natural and right. "You stay still, I'm going to take care of you now, sweetheart." Steve slid down Tony's body until he was straddling his thighs and sitting up right in order to take in every detail. He spit on his hand because _he_ personally didn't like dry handjobs. Wrapping it around the base of Tony's cock, Steve stroked upward, tightening his grip slightly. He had to be mindful of the pressure he used, not wanting to hurt the other man. "I like hearing you beg," Steve admitted quietly, feeling his heart pick up. "Like you nice and vocal for me." He had no idea what else to say, so Steve concentrated on squeezing Tony's dick, twisting his wrist every so often to vary the sensation.

* * *

Tony looked up at him when the kiss broke, both admiring and reflecting the smile that Steve had on. It was easy. This was _easy_ . The nervousness he'd felt earlier had ebbed away, as he found himself lost in the depth of Steve's eyes, his smile. It had been a long time since someone had made him feel like this. It was beginning to terrify him how he was both so aroused _with_ Steve but also enraptured _in_ all that Steve was. It made him blush, it made him squirm beneath him, fingers kneading at the larger man's back as he pulled away from him to move down Tony's toned body.

His legs fell from around Steve, regardless of how comfortable they were there. "Good." He agreed at the mention of not waiting, a shudder moving through him at Steve's next words. Sweetheart. Frig. That name got Tony as much as it got Steve now. Obediently, he did stay still, save for another shiver at the delightful dirtiness of Steve spitting into his hand.

He hadn't gotten a handjob since he was in middle school. He might have cracked a joke about it, except for the fact that that hand wrapped around him told of something much different than an awkward, barely teenage girl.

Instead, Tony found his toes curling, giving a low, sweet sigh as Steve finally gave him some attention. His fingers moved to grab at the comforter on his bed, unable to close his eyes. The image of Steve ontop of him- all muscle and skin and blonde- was almost too much for him. He swallowed, hard, at Steve's admission, giving a strangled gasp of "Y-Yeah?" as the other man made his quiet confession. _Goddamn._ Steve was striking every chord with Tony and Tony wasn't sure Steve even knew it. He looked up at him with a strained expression, cock twitching in response to Steve's next words.

Heat rushed from his face to his groin and back again. "S-says the one who won't be vocal for me." Tony teased, trying to keep his cool, but it was kind of hard when Steve was touching him the way he was.

" _Dammit,_ Steve-" He sighed. "I want you so bad-" His fingers trembled as their grip faltered on the bedspread. "I've thought of this and you for so long, babe, I love-" If Steve wanted vocal, he could give him vocal. He might have had a harder time getting him to shut up. "- thinking about you fucking me into this bed."

* * *

Steve's mouth parted at Tony's noises, the sounds were titillating and had a curl of arousal flaring up again. He exhaled slowly, tongue licking at his both lips because, good sweet Lord did he like eliciting such a response from the man beneath him. He heard the word ' _love'_ and swallowed past a lump, surely Tony wouldn't be declaring such a thing _now..._ but no, the words that followed, well, Steve didn't know how to exactly process _them_.

"Tony -- uh -- _wow_ ," Steve mumbled out, throat feeling suddenly tight. His hand momentarily stilled, erotic images filling his head. He knew a little of two men having sex, not from experience, but he had done some research on it - seemed like the practical thing to do given the relationship he was in. Steve would prefer Tony on his back so he could look at his face while pushing into him, or maybe his boyfriend on top of him and he could lift him up and then--

He had a full body shiver creep through him and breathed out shakily. "You're getting me all worked up again, baby," Steve murmured as he was more than half-hard, the serum gifting him with a rather speedy refractory period (which could also be a curse). He removed his hand to first lick up his palm and then spit on it again. Once more, he encircled Tony's dick, slick hand gripping tighter now, working him quickly, enjoying the heat and stiffness found there.

A better idea came to the forefront of his mind and Steve shuffled up a bit, fingers wrapping around his own cock now snug against Tony's. He'd never done this before, but he'd seen it in one of those pornographic movie clips and there was no time like the present to try it out, right? A low groan left his mouth as he slid his hand up, hips shifting into his hand and against Tony's own cock. "I promise.... _Ahhh...._ I promise we'll get to all of that," Steve somehow managed to get out.

* * *

"You asked for it."

He attempted to sound coy and sly, but the words came out at the tail end of a whimper, hips twisting at Steve's actions. He was a bit writhy, a lot vocal, but he wanted Steve to know how much he was adoring this. The hand on the comforter balled it up, fingers twisting and kneading at the fabric in an attempt of remaining grounded somehow, as if Steve's actions could send him whirling elsewhere. Which, with how he was feeling, could have been fairly valid.

The combination of Steve's words and actions were enough to make Tony's knees shake, hips lifting a little, pressing his cock into Steve's awaiting hand once he'd replaced his grip on him. "Yeah?" He breathed. "You've always got me worked up." Hell, it might have been lame, but it was true. Steve was absolutely overwhelming; when Tony thought about Steve, he thought of him in the split seconds of exchanged glances, the flex of his arm when they held hands, the smell of his skin between his neck and his shoulder. All of these things were so small, and yet so damn sensual, and-

He gave a stifled moan as he felt Steve's cock against his and goddamn- how did he get hard that quick?- but it was too good for Tony to bother spending much time thinking about. " _Please_ , Steve, Fuck-" His begging was breathy, pitched, almost uncharacteristic in his pleading. "I want you to fucking _use me-"_ His voice became too incomprehensible to make out, his tremors moving through his chest, down to his groin. As much as he wanted to last longer than this, his own willpower couldn't outweigh the tension in the pit of his stomach.

He came with a strangled gasp, one hand moving up to grip Steve's arm, the most he could think to do as he was overwhelmed by both _feeling_ and _emotion._ That was new. It prompted him to lean up, gathering Steve in his arms, pressing his face against Steve's neck where he left soft kisses and love bites for him, burrowing into Steve's broad body as if he never wanted to leave. Which was true. He could have stayed between Steve and the mattress forever, at this rate.

* * *

Steve had no plans on being a tease and drawing this out, not after they had both been waiting for so long. With measured strokes and increasing pressure, he worked their cocks thoroughly. He wasn't too worried about himself getting off again, this was all for Tony - his boyfriend whose voice sounded completely wrecked and desperate and all Steve wanted to do was to keep him vocal and feeling good, hopefully better than good, great even.

  
He'd never thought about 'using someone' sexually, under normal circumstances the sentiment would appall him. But these weren't  normal circumstances, _Tony_ had said the words, _Tony_ was clearly aroused by the idea, so in turn, Steve also felt more than a little intrigued by the notion. The bigger issue at hand was, would he allow himself? That was something to explore in the future, not now.   
  
Tony was beautiful when he climaxed, hips arching up slightly, a pleasured groan accompanying the pulse of the other man's cock and Steve's hand and dick were coated in hot sticky come. They were both a mess now, together, and Steve wouldn't have it any other way. Tony was affectionate post-orgasm, grabbing at him and kissing his neck and Steve could appreciate the sentiment. He balanced himself as best he could with one arm, leaning down on his elbow, his wet hand hovering away from them.   
  
"You were amazing, Tony," Steve gushed, feeling a swell of pride from his involvement. This all hadn't been apart of their anniversary plans, but it certainly was the cherry on top of the cake. "That was alright?" Bit of nervousness bubbling up because it was all too apparent that Tony's experience was worlds ahead of his own. Steve didn't know if he wanted platitudes, so he rushed on, "Think we ought to shower now, yeah? You're okay with that?"


	6. Just You Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The idea of putting sex in the calendar had him rolling his eyes. They most definitely would not need to be doing that. Steve did appreciate the calendar app on his phone, he liked to see his week filled up with the quirky titles on the reminders such as: _'Tony is taking you to Central Park'_ or, _'Museum of Modern Art with Tony Stark!? Amish Boy is so lucky!'_ He could only imagine what the sex entries would've been... _'Tony seduces Steve with a spectacular display of finely tuned skills'_ or, _'Blonde has no chance of escape.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, enjoy! :)  
> My [tumblr](http://merrythought.tumblr.com)  
> <3

"That was more than alright."

Tony had said, before showering his boyfriend in the sweetest, softest kisses he could muster for him. They'd remained a hot and sticky mess of limbs for a few more moments, mostly at Tony's request. He liked the feeling of being spent beneath Steve, and the feeling of Steve's soft compliments, but...

He got up eventually, taking Steve by the hand to his bathroom. It was highly modern; the shower could have easily fit four, let alone two. It was a steam shower with a heated floor and surround jets, a waterfall fixture in one corner instead of a tap. Tony brought Steve in with him, smiling up at him as the steam softened his skin. 

"So." He breathed, wrapping his arms around Steve's neck for a moment. "Tell me that was okay. It wasn't scary, was it?" He asked. He couldn't help but chuckle as Steve's wet hair stuck to his forehead; he lifted his hand up to spike it back, smiling at his lover's silly appearance. 

"Considering how you acted like you wanted to baptize me anytime I brought up sex before..." Tony teased, playfully bumping his body against Steve's. "You know, good Amish boy and all that."

* * *

With awe, Steve took in the sheer  _ size  _ of the shower. It was spacious and gorgeous, of course. And  _ what _ ? His feet were warm, the floor producing heat somehow. How bizarre. Nothing but the best for Tony Stark, and now him, because he got to partake and enjoy in these luxuries, too. It was a damn strange experience, thinking back to standard shower in the bathtub he had growing up, the finicky thing seeming to have two preferred settings: scalding and barely warm.

He allowed his hair to be messed around with, pleased smile on his face as he placed his hands on Tony's hips and swayed the two of them slightly under the gentle spray. He liked the playful side of Tony, it helped lighten up Steve, which was something that he knew he needed from time to time. "No, I survived, wasn't even traumatizing in the least bit," Steve said, a huff of laughter following. "I'd say there's probably a good chance of it being a recurring thing..."

The baptizing comment paired with the Amish reference and he was shaking his head. Time for payback. Steve's hands came to Tony's head and he slicked all the hair backward. "There, now you can be, what are they called, a 'smooth motherfucker?'" The word felt wrong in his mouth, but he was loose and happy and why not? He could blame Tony for the bad influence later.

* * *

After a moment of soaking in the steam, he set the shower to 'rain', using a panel on the wall. The jets mounted on the ceiling transitioned from steam to simulated rain, something Tony could tolerate fairly easily. He kept his body close to Steve's as he did this, pushing them against the wall of the shower playfully, reaching over Steve's broad body to mess with the panel. He could have put music on, but he figured that would be a little too extra for right now. He left a happy, light kiss on Steve's lips before he spoke, liking the feeling of the warm water and his boyfriend's just as warm body against his.

"Good. I'm glad." He teased, lifting his eyes to glance them over Steve's face. He couldn't help but sway along with him, liking the feeling of Steve's larger hands on his trim hips. "And even better. Should I send you a recurring calendar request for sex?" He teased, leaning up to leave him a quick kiss on the jaw. In order to ensure he didn't miss a date, Tony often sent calendar requests to Steve's phone, blocking off the time for him in a concrete way in order to match up with his hectic lifestyle. 

Tony couldn't help but laugh at Steve's next actions, blinking up at him as Steve nonchalantly pushed all his hair back. "More like a greasy motherfucker." He hummed, immediately moving one of his hands up to tousle his hair again. "Motherfucker." He repeated, laughing to himself. "God, I really am a bad influence on you, aren't I? Corrupting Sacred Steve. Fuck."

Moving away from him, Tony released Steve from his grip in favor of hunting down some body wash. He squirted a generous amount of it into his palm, the scent of it being a mix of amber and some expensive sounding wood. He moved back to Steve, beginning to lather down Steve's body for him, humming to himself as he did so. "How the hell do you keep this up?" He asked, glancing over Steve's toned and muscular chest. "I can hardly fight off gaining anything, let alone maintaining a body like  _ that... _ "

Tony's thoughts turned as he spread his hands across Steve's bare chest. It was unsettling, to touch his chest and not run into the interruptions of the reactor there. It was something that made them different, surely. 

Taking a breath, Tony looked up at him, stealing a bit of soap for himself. As he washed down his own abdomen, he spoke quietly to his lover, expression a bit softer. "... Thanks for earlier, Steve. I know the whole-  _ Iron Man _ thing can freak a lot of people out, but, you handled it pretty damn well-" He paused, watching the droplets of water chase the suds off of Steve's shoulders. "-considering your lack of tech knowledge and the fact that you're kind of dating a weapon of mass destruction." He kept his tone light again, allowing himself the opportunity to tease himself for his reputation, and Steve's lack of tech savvy skills or understanding. 

* * *

The shower spray, honest to God, felt like raindrops on his skin, small water droplets gently cascading over their naked bodies, all that was missing was the familiar sounds of thunder to complete the picture. Steve was thrilled as he looked behind him to find some crazy panel of controls - like it was a space shuttle or something.  He almost wanted to ask what else it could do, but the question didn't seem that important at this point in time. Chances were he'd find out at a later point in time because yes, he wanted more of these shared domestic activities to be spent with Tony.

The idea of putting sex in the calendar had him rolling his eyes. They most definitely would not need to be doing that. Steve did appreciate the calendar app on his phone, he liked to see his week filled up with the quirky titles on the reminders such as: ' _ Tony is taking you to Central Park _ ' or, ' _ Museum of Modern Art with Tony Stark!? Amish Boy is so lucky! _ ' He could only imagine what the sex entries would've been... ' _ Tony seduces Steve with a spectacular display of finely tuned skills _ ' or, ' _ Blonde has no chance of escape _ .'

"I'm sure we don't need the help of the calendar to get... intimate again," he replied fondly. Although, the reminder titles  _ would  _ have surely been amusing...

Steve joined in the mussing up of Tony's hair, truthfully just wanting to have his hands back in the other man's hair again. "I am  _ not ' _ Sacred Steve,' ugh," he muttered, but there was no heat behind his words. He knew it was a running joke that did hold some truth - Tony was, for better or worse, an influence on Steve's life, and that influence had impacted his vocabulary. He didn't mind, though. 

He sighed more than content as sudsy hands rubbed over his chest, a nice scent wafting up. Something that Steve had quickly discovered was that Tony had impeccable tastes for things such as fashion and fragrance. He should probably ask Tony to take him shopping for a  _ few  _ nicer things. Not a complete wardrobe change or anything, but Steve could probably use a few more updated pieces since some of his tastes were apparently from the 'stone age' according to his boyfriend. At the question on keeping in shape, Steve answered simply, "Well, I usually go to the gym once a day, go jogging once a day too, don't drink as much as you do -- oh wait, that was uhhh, rhetorical, yeah?" He gave his best wry 'oops' expression. Steve had perfected it.

Then Tony's voice was gentler, gratitude being expressed to him and Steve's face crumpled into one of adoration and concern. "Gosh, don't thank me," the blonde murmured, both hands coming to cup his boyfriend's face. "And you aren't a weapon of mass destruction - that sounds like some political mumbojumbo bullshit to me. You'll always just be Tony to me, a man trying to  _ do good  _ and a man I'm--" He paused, indecision filtering in. Did he want to take this leap? Captain America was brave, but was Steve Rogers? "The man I'm fallin' in love with." Steve had a second chance at life, he wasn't going to hold back. He'd take the risk and let himself fall.

* * *

Tony couldn't help but laugh at Steve's words. "We don't  _ need  _ the calendar, but, hell, it would be funny."  He hummed, bumping his body against Steve's playfully. He moved his arms up, letting his hands rest on Steve's chest as the water droplets chased down his body. A grin crossed his face as Steve ruffled his hair- he found himself leaning into the touch- every time Steve touched him it was so damn  _ pleasant  _ and he couldn't help but feel a little dorky about the smile he had on.

"I dunno. I'd say you certainly are, you church boy dork, you." Tony hummed, swaying his hips a little. "It's fine, though. It turns me on." His voice had a bit of a purr in it- he couldn't help it. He was giddy, a little high from their post copulation banter. 

He let go of Steve in favor of turning from him again, going to fetch some two-in-one shampoo and conditioner. Tony was vain, but impatience overrode his vanity. "Damn." He hummed, squirting a generous amount into his hand. His body, from this angle, was a bit more jarring; it was obvious that Tony had his fair share of scars, most violent-looking, scathing over his back and legs. He turned back to him though, conscious of how he could have looked. "And you eat your Wheaties and get in a tall glass of milk every day, too, eh?" Tony murmured, voice teasing as he reached up to shampoo Steve's hair.

It was so- soft- he was almost startled. He ran his fingers through Steve's hair, blinking as his boyfriend moved to take a hold of his face. Surprised by the sudden tenderness, Tony let his arms fall, though not before depositing the rest of the shampoo in an unceremonious lump atop his own head. His hands then went to hold Steve's forearms, partly to check out the muscles there, but then-

Oh.

_ Oh. _

_ Ohhhh. _

Tony blinked up at him, looking at first confused, then elated, then concerned at Steve's words. The 'L' word. Ladies said that in passing to him, often when they were asking Tony to sign their tits. Sometimes people had said it to him after they'd fucked. His mom used to say that to him. But this? It was different. He found his face going bright red, and he glanced away in trepidation. 

"Ah, Steve, are you-" He blinked, squeezing his arms. He was suddenly nervous all over again. "Are you sure about that?" 

* * *

Church boy dork. It wasn't the worse thing Tony had labelled him as, probably wouldn't be the last either. Steve rolled his eyes and almost asked, 'what doesn't turn you on about me?' Now,  _ that  _ would have been an interesting question to pose to Tony. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answers, however.

The sight of scars was nothing new to Steve. He'd seen plenty of them and various wounds in the war. However, he wouldn't bring unnecessary attention to them, wouldn't allow his eyes to linger over them or ask unneeded questions. His body may not have displayed them, but even Steve Rogers had scars.

He said nothing to the teasing about his daily routine. It wasn't so much about keeping fit, but working off the boundless energy and frustration he often experienced when he was alone. Steve felt so incredibly useless at times - one moment he had been fighting for something and then the next he was trying to figure out the Instagram thing and why the poop emoji was so popular. This new world was loud and hectic, everyone walked around with headphones on and eyes glued to their phones as if they couldn't survive without the pieces of tech. Bucky was gone, the Commandos had all passed and he  _ still  _ couldn't see Peggy yet. If it hadn't been for his thriving relationship, Steve would have gone mental.

Tony's face went through a few different emotions at Steve's declaration.  At first he seemed bewildered, then there was a flash of happiness which was soon replaced with something that looked rather distressed? Well. Steve's heart sank a little at that. Had he really misread the situation so poorly? "Sorry," he started sheepishly. "I mean, I'm not taking back what I said, but I guess I kind of sprung it on ya... My timing. It's been something I've needed to work on for a while..." The blonde tilted his head back, pulling away from Tony so that his hands could come to squeeze out the excess shampoo from his hair. He just needed a moment to catch his breath, get his bearings again and get his head screwed back on.

* * *

Tony lifted his hands, allowing Steve the space he wordlessly requested by pulling away. Instead, he massaged the shampoo into his own hair, looking over Steve's face in quiet concern.

"It's okay, Steve, don't apologize."

Swallowing, he looked over Steve's face. How did he explain that he'd never had a good experience with that word? Or that he rarely used it himself? It would take too much time, cause him too much residual hurt to discuss why that word made him  _ uncomfortable _ of all things. But there was a pull in his heart that let him know- "I feel the same, dear." His words were quiet, the name chaste and soft in its intent. "I really do, I just-" Can't say it? "-it's a little early for me to say it, and I.. I don't want to hurt you by not saying it back, though, it doesn't mean I don't-" He shook his head. This wasn't making sense.

Tony squeezed the soap out of his hair, before looking up at Steve. "Come here." He spoke, words half a question, half a demand. He wrapped his arms around Steve, giving him a full, strong hug. 

"I'm going there. It's just going to take me awhile to get there. Is that okay with you?"

There were tears in the corners of his eyes. He hated this. He hated not being able to say it. And maybe the tears were premature, or escalated in nature, but he was frustrated with himself and his shortcomings. Here, this big, beautiful man was telling him he  _ loved him  _ and Tony couldn't say it back due to his own stupid roadblocks between his heart and his head. "It doesn't mean I don't." He murmured, blinking them away, eyes burning as the sinking in his stomach rose up his neck. 

He pressed his cheek to Steve's, but then let go of him, moving to turn off the shower. He lead the way out of it, passing Steve a towel from a rack as he moved. He wrapped his smaller body in one, drying himself off in front of the mirror. He didn't know what to say, and for once, Tony Stark found himself quiet and stumped. 

* * *

Shampoo suds slowly rinsed from blonde hair as Steve watched the struggle Tony was going through. He hadn't meant to complicate things, to back his boyfriend into a corner, but it seemed like he had, unfortunately - Tony mumbling around his words, assuring Steve that he felt the same way, even if he didn't say it. The thing was, Steve didn't need to hear it - he  _ knew _ already. He  _ knew _ he wasn't the only one feeling these things, experiencing the magnetic pull and all of the excitement and comfort that came with a relationship that was  _ good _ for you  _ and _ the other person.

He was pulled into a hug and Steve sighed, returning it as his hands rubbed up Tony's back, squeezing at his shoulders. "Hey, there's no rush, no pressure, I wasn't expecting anything in return." All Steve could do was hope that Tony believed him, or would come to believe him in time.

As he dried off, concerned blue eyes watched his boyfriend closely. "Don't stew on it," Steve said finally, throwing his towel at Tony to get him to lighten up. "It's not a big deal." Naked and clean, he lead the way out of the bathroom taking Tony's hand in his own. When they got to the bed, Steve unwrapped the towel-clad man, pulled the lavish comforter and sheets back and pointed, "Into bed with you." 

Yes, he was tucking Tony into bed. "Oh!" He suddenly exclaimed. "We oughta plug the phones in, yeah?" Steve rushed to his neatly folded pile of clothes and pulled out the device from his pants. "Don't laugh, but when I first got this, I had a note in my bathroom medicine cabinet to remind me to plug it in every night," Steve grinned, grabbing Tony's fancier phone from the pants that were strewn on the floor.  He was directed to a compartment on the wall that, at the press of the button, held docking bays for their phones. Once they were settled in, Steve decided that he'd feel more comfortable sleeping in his boxers so he pulled them on before climbing into bed.

* * *

If there was one thing Tony loved about Steve that surprised him, it was Steve's hugs.

Tony had always been something of a touchy person, but he hadn't always been the type to want to be  _ held _ per se. Most of the time, hugs made him feel claustrophobic. "I want to give you something in return." He spoke quietly into the hug, allowing his words to be absorbed by the thickness of Steve's body. "God knows you deserve it, Steve, you're too damn good to me... Too patient, too kind, too-" He paused. "You're a lot. And I don't deserve a lot of it. So I'm thankful for you."

He had broken into an easy laugh though when Steve whipped his towel at him. He caught the towel between his hands, before throwing it into a corner (Future Tony could deal with that), turning toward his boyfriend instead. He gladly let Steve take the lead, too wiped to protest much, and there was no reason to chirp Steve's gentle movements. "Into bed with me, eh? Are you getting all authoritative now that you told me what to do in bed?" Tony teased, referring to the gentle commands Steve had given him-  _ be more vocal-  _ a smile cracked across his face at that. 

However, he followed the soft command with both ease and enthusiasm, slipping between the sheets and the comforter. "Wha?" He muttered, nuzzling into the bed as he turned to lay on his stomach. "Are you serious?" He asked again at Steve's declaration of needing to put a note in the cabinet. He snorted, laughing to himself at the mental image. "Oh, darlin', I don't get you." He teased, turning onto his side once Steve was in bed.

He scootched up to him, curling himself up against Steve's chest. He moved one of Steve's arms around him demandingly, resting his cheek to Steve's skin. 

"What do you dream about?" 

* * *

Tony's lack of self-esteem was something that Steve hoped he could gradually work on. The man was overly harsh on himself, quick to discount his good features and positive impact on the world around him. to say the least, Steve found it disheartening. He was always the type to try and look for the best in people which was why he'd not been quick to dismiss him after the somewhat dubious first impression. "Stop buttering me up or I may get an ego, then where would we be?" He joked in return. A lot of Tony's larger than life qualities could be attributed to the persona he presented - the egotistical billionaire playboy genius, but that didn't really ring true and it was proven time and time again to Steve. Tony  _ truly  _ didn't seen that much value or worth in himself - Steve would change that too.

The blonde was happy to have Tony cuddling up, both endeared and amused by Tony positioning his arm the way he wanted it to be. The hand on the brunet's back scratched lightly up and down Tony's spine, paying no mind to the scars that his nails crossed. He

What did he dream about? A lot of things, but the specifics weren't allowed to be shared because they were from a past that Tony knew nothing about - growing up in Brooklyn, his ma, Bucky, Erskine, Peggy, the war, the Commandos, how lost he sometimes felt in the  _ now.  _ Steve was creative soul, so there were very few nights that were spent dreamless. Steve settled on, "Simpler times, the past..."

Wanting to move on from the topic, he blurted out, "Mr. Jarvis, can you turn the light off?" He had been instructed earlier that if he should need anything or be curious that he should just speak to the Artificial Being whenever he desired. There was no time like the present to to demonstrate his willingness to try and be involved in Tony's world, Steve figured

"Of course," answered the mysterious voice and the dim light vanished, blackness enveloping the room.

"Thanks... He's pretty useful, ain't he?" Steve chuckled, his other hand coming to stroke at Tony's hair, brushing his fingers though and hoping to relax his partner. "You should sleep, sweetheart." Steve had no plans on falling asleep and could easily skip a night if he wished thanks to the serum. "I'm just going to keep on loving you."

* * *

He appreciated the back scratches, and he appreciated having someone to give them to him. He nuzzled up to Steve in a surprisingly affectionate manner. Truth was, behind the pomp and circumstance Tony Stark  _ was _ a cuddler- he just hated cuddling women. He much preferred the stillness of Steve's body against his, their mutual smell from the shower, Steve's deep breathing and his broad chest. No, this was what he wanted, headlines of confusion and his own baggage be damned.

"You seem to have quite the affinity for those simpler times." He spoke softly, before laughing to himself. "I should show you  _ Happy Days.. _ " It had been well established that Steve operated from under a rock. He didn't watch anything, and hadn't heard of much, either. Tony wasn't sure how much of his personality the accident had taken from him; what if he woke up one day, obsessed with something like Duck Dynasty, despite having no prior memory of it? He liked this Steve.  _ His _ Steve. He hoped the Steve before the accident wasn't any different.

God knows he'd be disappointed if he never got to see that boy on a bike.

Leaning into Steve's affections, Tony hummed. "I don't wanna." He initially replied, going to whine about falling asleep, but- Aw. 

Tony pulled Steve on top of him nonchalantly, moving his hefty body with a degree of difficulty. He leant up to kiss him, his lips slow and soft. "Goddammit." He sighed. "I keep thinking that you can't get any sweeter and then you go and do just that... prick." He muttered, moving his hands down his lover's back. He liked being under him. Weather or not it was comfortable to Steve, he wasn't sure, but the compression of Steve's body on top of his wasn't necessarily unwelcome. "Keep me close, okay?" He asked, leaning up to kiss his nose. "And please, get some sleep too."

He didn't say much else. Occasionally, Tony looked like he was going to sleep, only to roll over and kiss him. They settled in a spooning position; Tony as the little spoon, their legs intertwined, Steve's arms around him. It was here that he finally fell asleep, after about fifty minutes of tossing and turning. It was much shorter than his usual hours. Steve made him feel.. secure. Safe, and happy. 

His dreams, however, distorted that.

The arms around him became binds; the heat of Steve's body became the heat of a strange room. The solidness of the other man signalled rocks, signalled discomfort, told Tony to be scared. Sweat had begun to bead on his forehead, plastering his hair, running in rivulets down his tightened features. The dampness- the dampness- he was drowning again, wasn't he? He couldn't breathe. But he wasn't wet enough to be drowning. His chest- he pawed at the reactor in his sleep, moaning. The reactor, was it there, or was it gone? Was Obie trying to kill him again? Or someone else, who knew what he'd done?

His body was rigid, jaw clenched. Tony began to push at Steve, kicking him, thrashing in the midst of his own terror. He was very quiet, sound suppressed by his lips and locked jaw. It wasn't until he sat straight up in bed that it was obvious he was crying.

He awoke with a loud, wet sob, clutching his chest. The reactor- it had been put into him- forced into him and he lived with it, it lived with him, it had almost killed him, it made him weak. He couldn't think of the strength that it brought with it; instead, he was only able to focus on pain. In a daze, Tony remained upright, pulling his knees to his chest and pressing his face against the tops of his thighs. He was saying nothing but 'no', repeated, tears wetting his bare skin. Steve could have well been blocks away. The room could have well been nonexistent. He was caught in his own head, and it was terrifying. 

* * *

"Hey, that's not nice," Steve tutted as he was called a prick, but he wasn't bothered by the name. He could handle whatever Tony wanted to throw his way, because playful name calling was a thing Tony did and Steve accepted that. It was just one of the man's eccentricities, a part of the package deal that came with his boyfriend and he wouldn't change it even if he could. Being on top of Tony, he enjoyed their closeness, the skin to skin contact, the feel of that athletically lean body underneath his. "I'm not going anywhere, I'll be right here," he soothed and every word was true.

He kept his eyes closed as he curved around the smaller form. Tony didn't fall asleep easy or gently, never still for more than a handful of minutes and it went on for nearly an hour. Steve tried to be as patient and calm as possible, pressing light kisses into the back of Tony's neck. He didn't ask what was troubling the other man - maybe this difficulty was par for the course. After all, Steve had had his share of sleepless nights, restlessly laying on an army cot or his twin bed back in Brooklyn, lungs struggling to fight off another bout of pneumonia. Hell, even here with his too soft mattress and good health he'd laid awake late into the night, wondering what the future held.

When sleep finally did come to Tony, it wasn't peaceful. It became fairly evident that the other man was experiencing a nightmare of some kind, distressed sounds leaving his mouth, a sheen of sweat could be felt and then violent thrashing ensued. Steve's cuddling-reverie was dashed as he bolted up into a sitting position, feeling a stab of panic himself because he had seen first hand how trauma could manifest into believable terror. "Tony, you're okay, it's okay, sweetheart," Steve spoke softly, hand placed gently on the other man's back, rubbing firmly. He wanted to gather Tony up into his arms, but was afraid to frighten his partner so Steve forced himself to refrain. "I'm right here, I'm still right here. You were just dreaming, it was a nightmare," the blonde murmured.

* * *

Tony's breathing was ragged; his skin clammy. His head felt like it was spinning. He could feel the tenseness in his body, but particularly, his neck. His fingers trembled as he held the back of his neck, keeping his head down as he breathed, trying to register his surroundings. He was in bed- his bed- and a voice was guiding him upward-

Lifting his head, Tony turned his face toward Steve, blinking. Right. Steve. His Steve. He opened his mouth, trying to find words to explain.  _ A nightmare.  _ God, it seemed so juvenile. He wiped at his eyes, leaning into the hand on his back as he tried to catch his breath. "I-I'm sorry. I-" He needed something to ground him. And of course, he knew exactly what. Pausing, lips parted, Tony glanced over Steve's face. "Just- stay here- okay?" He breathed, eye wide. 

Without much else to say, Tony slipped out of bed, limbs trembling as he did so. He moved to slide on another pair of boxer briefs, getting them from the closet. He then slipped on a robe, not looking at Steve as he stood at the other side of the room, running his fingers through his hair. Breathe. He was alive. Fingers clinked against the reactor, knocking it. It was there, too. He looked at Steve, glancing over him. Steve hadn't tried to hurt him. Steve... Steve wouldn't do that. He was safe, and kind, and gentle. 

Jaw set, Tony left the room, feet padding on the floor. He wrapped his arms around himself, allowing himself to sob openly again once he'd left the room. His crying was quiet- a low murmur- but to him, he might have well been screaming. It was embarrassing. Why be haunted like this? He'd fixed himself. He was alive. Death was inevitable. Get over it. 

Fingers shook as he went to the bar, lifting a bottle of scotch. Two fingers were poured, drank. Then another three. Drank again. It burned his dry throat, but at least he'd be able to sleep. He couldn't take pills. His doctor had given him- what was it- Zopi-something- for sleep. But they left the taste of metal in his mouth and it felt wrong to him to need something to sleep. He took a third glass of scotch, holding it in his hands as he stood in front of the window, eyes half-lidded in exhaustion. 

As the liquor warmed his stomach, he pressed his forehead to the window. He was in New York. A man who loved him was in the other room. It was fine. He was fine. He took another drink, downing half of the four finger glass in brutal, hungry gulps.  _ Fine. _

* * *

Thankfully, Tony seemed to come back to himself as an apology was stammered out, but then the other man was telling him to stay put and Steve frowned in confusion. Jarvis seemed to be able to detect that his maker was up and at it, automatically turning on a low setting of light. Steve watched with concerned eyes as his boyfriend hastily pulled on under garments and a robe and all but dashed out of the bedroom with no other words.

Steve had a choice now - listen to Tony's request or chase after the man he loved. 

It wasn't really a choice at all. Steve had never been the type to sit around and do nothing, not when there was a faint chance he could do possibly do something - to do _anything_. He had been told to told to keep Tony close, and that's what Steve was going to do. Smoothly, he rose from the bed and made his way to follow Tony, mindful to ensure a bit of a distance between them, not wanting to risk spooking him by suddenly sneaking up on him.

It was a heart wrenching moment when Steve's ears picked up Tony's sobs. Very quickly it was all too apparent that the destination Tony had set his eyes on was the bar. A comfortable distance away, Steve stood in the shadows, the outside world of New York casting some light into the spacious room. He observed his boyfriend desperately down the liquor and sighed, feeling uneasy, but understanding  _ a little  _ more now.

"Hi there, sweetheart," he said gently, making his way over to the window, arms encasing Tony in a firm, but not overly clinging hug from behind.  "I'm keeping you close, like you asked."

* * *

Tony kept his forehead pressed against the glass for a moment, gaze turned downward at the city. He finished the glass quickly, setting it on the pane that ran across the width of the window, halfway through. J.A.R.V.I.S. hadn't spoken up yet- weird- maybe there was an expectation that Steve would-

And Steve did. Tony didn't move, listening to Steve's words, preparing for the worst. But when his words came? They were soft, and sweet, and spoke of nothing but compassion. It made Tony give a ragged sigh, tears continuing to slip from the corners of his eyes. He leant into the hug, hands moving to rest on top of Steve's arms. He shifted, exposing his neck, encouraging Steve wordlessly to rest his head there.

"Hi." He breathed, voice rough, scratchy. He leant back, into Steve's body, head tilting back a little to rest against the other man. Tony was still shaking, but he allowed the tightness of the hug to dissipate his tremors, allowing them to spread through Steve's body instead of his own. "Hi, hi..." He repeated, closing his eyes. The leaning got heavier. He was so tired. Tired of this. Tired of even the thought of trying to explain it to Steve. He was quiet for a long while, just breathing, feeling Steve close to him. 

"I'm sorry." He admitted again, keeping his eyes closed. "That happens, sometimes. Sometimes I close my eyes and I'm not here." He rasped, squeezing Steve's thick arms weakly. He didn't know how to explain it, but... "It's like my bed's so soft I can't sleep..." He rambled, voice low. Tony shook his head, turning in his arms. He looked up at Steve, eyes surrounded by redness and slight darkness from exhaustion. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put this on you, I wish... you didn't have to see me like this." 

* * *

"Hi you," Steve repeated affectionately as Tony delivered his third or fourth 'hi'. "It's me, I've got you." Probably stupid to point out, but the words were out of his mouth before he could think about them. He held the man securely, more than able and willing to support him for as long as he needed. For nearly all of Steve's life he hadn't been able to take care of himself, let alone another, so having the opportunity  _ now  _ meant the world to him. He would cherish it and try his best to be strong for Tony.

Steve pressed a kiss on that elongated neck, nuzzling the skin with his nose. "You don't need to apologize, we all have our demons," he whispered and Steve hoped one day he could show Tony that he  _ wasn't  _ alone in the darkness. Tony may think Steve was perfect, an open book, too sweet, too much of a lot of things, but Steve wasn't without his own faults, his own fears.

Having Tony face him now, Steve smiled and shook his head as another apology was thrown his way. "I want to see you no matter what, do you understand? _ No matter what _ . I love  _ every  _ part of you," voice fierce, Steve pushed Tony gently against the window, hands coming to his waist to undo the tie of the robe as he held him. The blonde leaned in and pressed a kiss to Tony's wet cheek. "I love this right here, this cheek that has tears on it." His lips brushed against a sweaty forehead and he sighed before kissing a trail down the side of Tony's face, along his jawline. "I can take it, okay?" Steve's mouth sucked gently on Tony's neck, near another mark, wanting to leave another part of himself on the man, wishing he could  _ do more.  _ "Whatever you want to hide, whatever your embarrassed of, whatever you're scared of... I can take it."

* * *

_ It's me. I've got you. _

Tony gave a staggering exhale at those words. He found so much reassurance within them; the love Steve alluded to could certainly be felt. He let his skin fall into goosebumps as his neck was kissed, not expecting the affection at this moment, but accepting it nonetheless. 

A sharp sigh left him as Steve pushed him against the window, Tony's hands going back to brace himself on the glass. "Steve-" He began, but his protest was cut short by the kiss left on his cheek, the opening of his robe. He paused, body a little bit rigid, a little bit intimidated by these new experiences.  _ Goddamn.  _ He moved one hand up weakly, placing it on Steve's chest, the other still attached to the window. Steve was somewhat in his shadow, but the lights of the city were playing on his features again, as he moved to kiss his face. 

He wasn't used to this. Steve was being so  _ intense  _ and yet Tony could pick up on the fact that this wasn't meant to turn him on- not in the way Steve had kissed him before- not like that. Maybe something else was meant to be felt, and while Tony couldn't quite figure it out, he knew he felt reassured at the least. He felt.. well, he felt the closest to loved he'd been in a very long time. 

"Thank you." He spoke quietly, body pressing against Tony's as Tony sucked at his neck. He gave a nod to him, allowing himself a quiet exhale. "Okay.. okay. I don't know if I can talk about it now, but one day, alright?" He paused. "I'm sure you know already, what's... what's happened to me." It had been a while, near a year and a half, and yet tabloids continued to publish and re-hash stories about him; about this. 

* * *

"You don't need to talk about it... and I know a little - I know enough," Steve assuaged him. "More importantly, I know _you._ Or at least, gettin' to know _you,_ but _I love_ _you, Tony Stark._ " He had said _falling in love with_ earlier in the shower, but now Steve knew he was most definitely _there._ Vulnerability was a beautiful thing to Steve. Growing up, men weren't supposed to cry, men were supposed to soldier on and keep things buried down, but his ma had taught him otherwise and that was a lesson he hadn't forgotten. So, Steve would shower affection and love on Tony whose cracks were on display. He'd show Tony that it was okay to not be perfect, that he could let the facade fall, that he didn't need to wear a mask - because Steve didn't want perfect, didn't want any of that. Despite Tony's insistence, Steve definitely _wasn't_ perfect.

His mouth kissed a journey down to a collarbone - "Love this part of you." He pressed a kiss to the chest-invention again - "Love your genius." And then somewhat curiously brushed the faintest touch to a nipple. "Guess I love this too." He chuckled softly to himself before he went to his knees, hands running up and down the sides of the man standing before his hands came to hold hips firmly. He peppered kisses around his boyfriend's navel, alternating between caressing Tony's stomach with the side of his face and mouth. "I want all of you, okay? Don't hide from me, don't run..."

* * *

Tony kept his back to the window, liking the feeling of the cool glass against the back of the robe, and the robe to his skin. He listened to what Steve had to say, swallowing hard. "Thank you-" He breathed, biting his lip as Steve said those words. He loved him. He loved him and he  _ knew _ he loved him despite them only being together for what some might have called a short time but Tony might have called a month that felt like a year- maybe years- time stretched out into some infinite expanse when he was with Steve, punctuated by soft words and softer kisses.

His body trembled lightly as Steve's mouth kept moving down; Tony didn't know what to expect. He was hard due to the erotic nature of Steve's movements, but tears billowed at the corners of his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. He didn't get it. Steve was doing so much to him with so little, and it was overwhelming. Another shudder came as Steve's fingers ran over a nipple, and then, and then-

"I want all of you too, baby, thank you." Tony breathed, his body a little rigid, legs flexed and back stiff against the window. He looked down at Steve on his knees, his skin on fire beneath the hands on his hips. "I'll be right here as long as you are, okay?" Tony babbled, voice breathless. He was glad he was wearing boxer briefs; he had no idea what he was  _ supposed _ to feel, and if that included  _ aroused _ , but he let himself feel it, anyway. Steve's lips were on the expanse of his abdomen and it was so damn good. 

"I'm gonna- I'm gonna love you too, Steve. Just you wait. Alright?" 

* * *

Would Tony still want all of him when he found out the truth... That Steve had lied and withheld vital parts of his history, his identity, hadn't even really disclosed the most basic truths, really. Even though it was a struggle, Tony had been so open, had pushed himself to share and allowed Steve to see him at his weakest. He couldn't bear to think about it and swallowed past a lump.

"I'll wait for you as long asked you need," Steve murmured. There was no need to rush and be impatient. He wasn't going anywhere and wasn't there a saying that good things would come to those who wait? Tony was worth waiting for, the blonde was sure of that.

It hadn't been Steve's intent to arouse Tony, but a very obvious bulge was in front of him. He didn't mind, would go further if Tony was okay with it because he wanted to make him feel better, to feel good and appreciated. It was all about his boyfriend right now; he'd pour everything into that goal. His hands slid down to Tony's waistband, fingers dipping below the band as he looked up. "You alright if I try and use my mouth on you? Never done it before, so you may have to give me tips." Steve nuzzled at the clothed erection, liking that he was able to elicit this kind of response. 

* * *

Tony gave a small nod at what Steve said, glad that he was being understanding of the fact that he needed time to navigate his heart and his head. This was difficult for him, but Steve was slowly making it easier.

He bit the inside of his cheek when Steve dipped his fingers below the waistband of his boxer briefs, lifting a hand to dry his eyes. No way in hell was he going to be the man who cried while getting sucked off- if that was Steve's intention. His words confirmed his suspicion, and Tony swallowed hard. "Y-Yeah." He breathed, pushing his hips toward his boyfriend as he touched his cock through his clothing, body trembling a little.

My, how things seemed to escalate between them.

Moving his thumbs down into the waistband of his boxer briefs, Tony rolled them down, letting them rest at the tops of his thighs. He gave a stifled inhale as he revealed himself, already loving the image of Steve on his knees before him. "I know, baby." He breathed at the mention of not doing it before, humming as cooler air hit his skin. "But I also know you're going to do just fine. Touch me like you touch yourself- show me what you like first, what you like to think about." 

* * *

Tony helped the process along, pulling down the article of clothing himself and Steve felt more than a little nervous and excited at the prospect of giving his first blowjob. The context was different than when they had touched earlier in the bedroom and that wasn't lost on Steve. This wasn't about him getting fulfillment or his desires, although he certainly  _ wanted _ this. Steve wanted this experience, savoured an opportunity to learn more.

What he liked, what he thought about...

He'd touched Tony before, so wrapping his hand around the base of the other man's cock came easy to him. "I've thought about this... Doing this for you... How'd you look... How'd you sound," Steve smiled up at Tony a little shyly before licking his lips and bringing his mouth to the silky tip before him and he licked across the slit, lapped at the side, underneath, getting a taste of the other man and wetting his dick. 

* * *

Tony gave a sharp breath in when that familiar hand was wrapped around the base of his cock. Like he had before, a part of him nearly felt  _ bad.  _ Like he was corrupting Steve, or turning him into some kind of sex fiend. But at the same time, this had likely been there all along. And Tony was beginning to realize that he loved uncovering this part of Steve, bit by bit. "Mm." He exhaled, looking over Steve's shy smile, watching that tongue slide across the head of his dick.

He shivered a little, one hand moving down to get lost in Steve's hair. He didn't push or move him yet, instead watching him with intent, admiring the way he looked as he sucked along the side of his shaft. "Fuck, babe, there you go already..." He breathed, hand tightening in his hair a little.

"Put it in your mouth. Suck for me," Tony instructed, "Be a good boy." 

* * *

He didn't need to be told twice, Tony's request aligning with Steve's own desires. "Right, okay," he murmured. He took a large inhale of air before parting his lips and moving down on Tony's cock, taking just the head inside of his mouth. He thought of the phrase  _ Good Boy _ and that coming from Tony... Well, he liked hearing it, so he obeyed and sucked, cheeks hollowing out. It was apparent that he'd need to breathe through his nose for this to work so Steve did so. He didn't feel like he had any 'technique,' but he'd try his best, mouth siding further down, taking another inch in and trying to relax around it. Steve could feel saliva dribble down from the curve of his mouth, creating a wet sheen on his chin.

His hand pumped up the length that he hadn't taken into his mouth while his free hand came to rest onto Tony's hip in a firm grip. Feeling a bit bold and excited by it all, Steve rushed himself, head moving forward and then promptly retreating back as he gagged, Tony's dick having hit the back of his throat. "S-sorry," he stammered, slightly embarrassed by his over eagerness.

* * *

He was almost more aroused by what he was saying to Steve, and what Steve was saying back, than anything else that was occurring. He gave a slow exhale of breath through his nose as Steve's cheeks hollowed out, fingers kneading his hair a little in anticipation. Tony was surprising himself with how much he liked  _ who _ was doing it instead of  _ what _ was happening; he was burning this image of Steve into his head, saving it for later-

An amused snort came from him as Steve quickly attempted to deepthroat him, pulling back on Steve's hair as he retreated. "No." He sighed, laughing to himself. "Easy there, cowboy, you're fine. Just.. take it slow, okay?" He asked, before pushing Steve's face back against his cock. The actions were lewd and satisfying. 

"See if you can do half," He spoke quietly. "Stroke me off with that hand. You'll do just fine." 

* * *

He didn't feel any more embarrassed by Tony laughing at his overreaching, was just relieved that he was being given another chance, Tony pushing his head back and then giving Steve further instructions.

"Okay, yeah, I'll try that," he replied, voice serious because he wanted to be good at this - to get good at this. He'd need to practice. Sex was skill, right? He could equate it to the knowledge he'd learned in the Army - this would just be another skillset he'd need to acquire. He was convinced Tony wouldn't mind one bit.

Once more, be set his mind to the task, opening up and taking a few inches of Tony back into his mouth, focusing on just sliding back and forth in a manageable increments. His hand soon joined in, stroking tightly around the remainder. At first Steve's motions were unsteady, but he gradually grew more confident in his actions, mmm'ing, content at taking part in it all. 

* * *

"Mm. Good. I don't want you to stop."

The words came out on an exhale, body rigid as Steve continued to work him. God, it felt good. To go from absolutely nothing to this- cumming for a second time in one night? It was great. He wanted his to continue; to never go back to the way things were. 

"Relax for me, baby." He spoke quietly, hand moving instead to comb through Steve's hair. He was eager, he was a little unsteady, but he wanted Steve to know that Tony was enjoying this all the same. He gave a couple of soft moans as his actions steadied, growing more determined. 

Testing the waters, Tony pulled back on Steve's hair, yanking his head back a little- only to push him forward again. He gripped his hair tightly, forcing him down a little further on his cock. "Next time I want you to fuck me up against this window-" He hissed, voice strained in his arousal. "You're doing such a good job, baby, keep going--" His words were cut off by a strangled moan as his cock hit the back of Steve's throat again.

* * *

 

He tried to oblige Tony, to relax and keep his movements fluid and smooth. He loved the reactions he was pulling out of Tony - the encouraging sounds, the hand petting at his head - and then Tony was drawing him back only to jerk him forward by his hair and that had arousal spiking through Steve the instant it happened because his boyfriend taking a bit more control and being  _ demanding _ , was incredibly sexy in this moment. Then that statement -  _ Fuck me up against this window _ \- and Steve was groaning around Tony's dick, fuelled on by the sentiment. He didn't react as poorly this time when he felt his throat convulse a bit at the brush of the tip at the back of his throat. The praises had him reeling, committed to seeing this act through, to seeing and experiencing Tony climax yet again.

Steve's pushed himself to take more, to ignore the slight ache in his jaw from being unaccustomed to the nature of the repetitive actions. The blowjob was messy, obscene slurping sounds filling the room as the blonde gave it his all.

* * *

Tony was losing his composure by the second. If Steve had done this to get him out of his head, to quiet the thoughts that plagued him, then he was absolutely successful in his endeavor. More than successful. Tony tipped his head back, unable to keep watching him, knowing he'd cum with one look from his boyfriend if it was given.

Instead, he held Steve's head still, rocking into his mouth with his hips. He moaned loudly as he fucked his face, the movements selfish and further demanding. Perhaps he wasn't being careful enough, but he was easily becoming enraptured by the sound of Steve gagging on him, continuing to spit on him and get messy. It only took a couple more thrusts for Tony to pull back, biting back a loud moan to gasp- "Close your eyes."

He came across Steve's chest and collarbone, trying not to get him in the face- he figured that would be impolite for their first time. His body trembled, hip quaking under the hold that Steve had on him. Through all of this, Tony was repeating Steve's name, interspersed with his own sounds. 

* * *

Physically, it wasn't exactly pleasant, Tony thrusting into him, holding his head and making him take it.  His throat convulsed around the  persistent intrusion, eyes a little watery as he focused on trying to breathe through his nose and not fight what was happening. Psychologically, though? It was fucking hot. Yeah, it was definitely worth describing with a curse word. Tony was  _ using _ his mouth and now Steve understood the sentiment, comprehended through his own experience how it could be arousing to let one's partner furiously find gratification.

He almost missed the words -  _ Close your eyes  _ \- but, he complied, quickly shutting them because he trusted Tony implicitly. Steve hadn't considered this part of the equation - what he'd do with the the product of the orgasm - but Tony apparently saw fit to make the decision for him and it was with a bit of awe that he felt hot splatters of cum fall into his skin.  

Steve opened his eyes, blinking and looking down at the white gobs marking up his skin. With a pleased smile, he gazed up at his love, both hands now rubbing soothingly at Tony's hips. Voice a little rough from the facefucking, Steve joked, "You making art on me, sweetheart?"

* * *

Tony leaned heavily against the window, chest heaving as he finished and caught his breath. "Goddamn, boy." He breathed, letting go of Steve's hair. Instead, he held the side of Steve's face, a thumb running over his cheek in an affectionate manner.  _ His Steve. _

Laughing at the comment, Tony shook his head. "Not quite. Unless you wanted to see it that way, you freak." He sank down the window, robe sliding down the glass with his body until he was kneeling on the floor, too. He took both sides of Steve's face into his hands, leaning in to kiss him. "Tell me you love me again." He asked softly, pulling away to glance over Steve's face. "I'm so sweet on you, darlin'." He hummed in a singsong tone. It was a line he spouted more than once before, throwing back to how he continually teased Steve for his politeness and gentleness, believing him to be some kind of southern gentleman or altar boy or Amish man. 

"You doing alright?"

* * *

Steve returned the kiss, lips slick and swollen, but he was filled with pride. "You love me again," Steve responded cheekily. Tony's sarcastic sense of humour had certainly rubbed off on him, at least a little bit. "'course you're sweet on me because I'm so sweet on you," he replied in his own happy light tone. "And I'm more than alright." 

He opened his mouth wide, stretching his jaw a bit as he rose and scooped up Tony, boxer briefs still around his thighs, his turn to carry him bridal-style. "I'm stealing you away, back to the bedroom, my love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, comments please? :[ I see so many kudos/subscriptions, but we've only received like 3 comments and sometimes that's kinda a bummer, so please if you enjoyed any part/line let us know! =O  
> But I do hope you're liking ittttt!


	7. Blanket Forts and Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His anger had melted with his intoxication. Now, Tony was just tired. He was tired of acting like he was fine with being left in the dark. He was tired of being frustrated, of being angry, of being denied when it came to sex. He was hoping that a part of Steve was tired, too. Surely, it would make working this out easier if they were both on a similar page. Tony slowly slinked out of bed, putting on a plaid pair of pyjama pants and a black t-shirt. He followed the smell to the kitchen, attempting to sneak up on Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, some angst! o.o

Tony wasn't a nervous traveller. At all.

But what made him nervous was the thought of Steve visiting his home. His _real_ home.

Tony awaited him in the airport terminal, past the security checkpoint. He sat on his suitcase, wearing jeans, a tank top, and a leather biker jacket (he was still waiting for Steve to get better so they could go on a goddamn bike ride), eyes shielded by black ray-bans. He was a little hungover. Okay, he was more than a little hungover. There'd been a fundraiser the night before, and he'd drunk texted Steve pictures of his ass, as well as sappy notes about how much he adored him.

Part of him had also been drinking because he hated being nervous.

Would Steve like Malibu? Or would he hate the sun and sand and drinks? Tony had never seen Steve drink, or swim, or do anything other than be charming. He was excited to show Steve his cars, even though Steve wasn't a car guy. Maybe he'd buy him a new motorbike. Yeah, that would be...

"Jarvis." Tony uttered into his phone. "Make arrangements for a Harley Davidson Softtail Fat Boy Lo  to be at the house when we get there. Black. With a big red ribbon on it. Please?"

"Sir, I don't know if Mr. Steve has been cleared for riding yet, with his condition-"

"I know, I know. It's a surprise, fuck."

"Yes, Sir."

Tony lowered his phone. That calmed his nerves; buying things. At least he now had an idea of what to do with Steve when he got there. He'd seen the bike at motor shows, and it had reminded him of Steve as soon as he'd seen it. Maybe a month and a half of dating was too early to be buying someone a vehicle, but for Tony Stark, it was more than enough. Maybe the bike would rev Steve's engine a bit. Lord knows they'd been dating for long enough, and yet Steve refused to go any farther than a hand or blowjob when he stayed over. It was driving Tony crazy, as he made more and more lewd demands in the bedroom, begging for something, anything else.

He didn't like to think about it. He tried not to think about it when he saw Steve, when they held hands on the way to the plane, when they settled down beside one another. Tony made some kind of small talk with him as the plane took off, holding one of Steve's larger hands in both of his. What was wrong with him? What was making Steve act this way? Tony had a hard time believing it was because of a lack of attraction, but still...

Still, there was nothing but elementary information about Steve on the internet. The man had a squeaky clean record; partly due to the fact that he had no social media accounts. The most disturbing thing to Tony was that he couldn't find anything online about the bike accident. Surely an accident as severe as the one Steve was in would have prompted a headline, or a rally for motorist's safety, but there was nothing.

Stephen Grahame Roberts. What a weird name. What a strange man.

Tony couldn't help but let these thoughts consume him as he listened to Steve's replies halfheartedly. He took off his seatbelt once they were fully in the air, before looking over at his lover, brows pulled together. "Steve.." He breathed, interrupting whatever Steve was rambling on about.

He moved over, getting up from his seat to straddle Steve's lap. He rested himself squarely on Steve's crotch and hips, grinding down a little. They were alone. Tony had had enough. He was tired of this song and dance. Either Steve wanted him, or he didn't.

"Why don't you shut up and show me how much you love me?"

* * *

 "No, I'm going... Yes, I hear you and understand your concerns, but to be frank with you, I'm dating Iron Man and I'm sure he can more than handle any... You could always give me the shield -- Okay, okay, I'll schedule an appointment when I get back." In hindsight it wasn't his brightest idea to let his SHIELD psychologist know the day off their trip, but Steve had known they'd kick up a fuss about it. So, he wasn't in the best of moods when he joined Tony on the plane. It was damn aggravating that the organization wanted to police him, but not use him for anything beneficial.

"So, your own plane, huh? Pretty swanky," Steve commented idly, trying his best to keep his spirits up. Tony seemed slightly off, the blonde assumed it was nerves and lack of sleep. His boyfriend never had an easy time winding down after booze and fundraiser parties. When Steve had woke up in this morning and glanced through the numerous missed texts, he frowned when he realized the last one was sent just past 4 AM.

"There seems to be some pretty nice hikes around in Malibu, I was thinking that we could check 'em out--"

Steve stopped because Tony had no interest in the chatter as he climbed into his lap and delivered a line that he never wanted to hear again. At first Steve was scandalized by the demand, blushing and eyes widening as Tony made it clear that they were bringing up _this_ topic again. Then he was a little angry. He didn't get angry often, always more of the type to be frustrated or disappointed, but never truly angry. Tony's crotch may have been rubbing him the right way, but the statement surely didn't. "What the heck, Tony?"

Deep breath. With fast reflexes that he rarely showed these days (had no need to...), Steve grabbed onto both of Tony's wrists and held them tightly in one hand. "This what you want?" He thrust against Tony's own growing hardness, nuzzling at Tony's head get the other man to tilt it to the side to grant him access to a neck. Steve bit and sucked at the warm skin, arousal and frustration boiling under his skin. "Oh, you want us to just fuck on your plane, Mr. Stark?" Mouth moved to Tony's own, kissing and nipping at a bottom lip before he continued to whisper in a tone that turned sharp. "So classy, for _my first time with_ a man and _our_ first time to be on some cramped plane and you trying emotionally blackmail me? You're a piece of work. That sounds _exactly_ like what I don't want." He let go off Tony's wrists promptly and lifted him off his lap, plopping him on the seat next to him. "Go get a drink and mellow out."

Not that he wanted to encourage Tony drinking, but he was at his wit's end with how to deal with this right now. They had at least a handful of hours more until they arrived and Tony was acting up and Steve was disgruntled about the situation with SHIELD, Tony's growing demands for _more,_ and his inability to be able to simply be his real self.

* * *

 Trails. Hikes. In Malibu. How quaint.

They could talk about that. They could talk about that during the other few hours of the plane ride. No, for now, they... They should be doing this. He sensed the sharpness in Steve's exclamation at first, but the other man seemed to move past it, Tony gasping as Steve gripped his wrists. Tony writhed a little, testing his grip, giving a little whine as Steve so blatantly thrust against him. There. "F-fuck-" He stammered, blushing at Steve's use of 'Mr. Stark'. Damn, Steve was good, this was good; he craned his neck before kissing him back, hips heavy and firm against Steve's, fully prepared to-

Well, he wasn't prepared at all for what came next.

Anger billowed over his features as Steve kept talking. He gave a startled "What the fuck, Steve" as  he was pushed off his lap, Steve's words stinging in his ears. He was hurt, surely. _Blackmail?_ God. "You're unbelievable." Tony scoffed, promptly sitting up after he'd heard the line about drinking. "You know what? I will." He declared. "Maybe two. Or four. Or fuck, eight." He exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air as he walked toward the plane's minibar. There was enough stock to get a few people wasted, and himself buzzed at the least. He took his sunglasses off of his forehead, scattering them across the counter top.

"You wanna have words, Stephen? Let's have words," Tony barked, in between screwing off the cap of a mickey of scotch. He drank from the bottle, wiping at his lips. "Is this where you tell me you're married? Or you got some kid sittin' at home you haven't told me about? Or whatever the fuck else you're hiding from me-" Tony continued to speak, eyes shooting daggers at his partner from where he stood. "Considering your record is so damn _clean_ and I can't find a single shred of goddamn evidence that there was even a bike accident in the first place."

The last four months had been heavy and one sided in their depth. Tony had taken Steve to all of his dark places, allowing Steve to shine the light he had there. Tony had been open, raw, emotional even, but Steve had... Steve never had an answer for even the most simple of questions. It was infuriating. His story was bland. New Yorker. Went to highschool. Was in the military. Tony figured four months of rehabilitation would have brought back something of his memory, some detail more than whatever Steve offered him at the least. He couldn't even tell him his mom's first name.

Tony took a swig of the drink, wiping at his mouth afterward. "Or maybe you're waiting to kill me, like everyone else. Well, get the fuck in line, buddy." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Never had someone try like this, but it wouldn't surprise me, at this point. I don't know what game you're trying to play with me, but you need to drop it. Stop- lying to my face- avoiding everything- I don't even know who you _are_ , Steve."

* * *

He hadn't been prepared for Tony's venomous words. _Stephen. Married? Kid sittin' at home._.. God. Apparently Tony had been doing some digging to find out the stupid fake name. Not that that was a huge surprise (he had done the same). Google made it very easy, no one was safe, everyone left a footprint... Except him. SHIELD hadn't been overly concerned with his digital history because he wasn't supposed to be of interest to anyone. Well, Steve had gone and mucked that up with getting him a tech savvy boyfriend who happened to be a bit paranoid too.

"God! I'm not married or a father," Steve spat back, throwing his hands up in the air, not even sure how he could convince Tony of the truth. "How could you even think that!?" He knew his life looked bare compared to most, but what could he really do about that? His hands were tied, pretty much. He wasn't 'allowed' to go get a job, he wasn't supposed to make good friends. SHIELD's idea of integration was a half-assed joke. He sighed, his hands forming into fists as he put them on his lap and clenched his jaw.

Tony's jabs kept coming and the last one was the most absurd. Steve stood up, looking back at Tony, completely bewildered and feeling incredulous. "Kill you? I'm not even going to dignify that with a response." He huffed and went to his knapsack, pulling out a coiled notebook and pen and sat back down. "Please... Please just believe me that I'm not _trying_ to hurt you, Tony," he said, feeling defeated by his own inability to see an answer to the situation. Well. He knew the answer was to tell the truth, but he was trying to play by the rules even if they rules were rather unfair. He opened the notebook and started writing.

* * *

Tony listened to what Steve had to say, finishing his drink. He got out another bottle, this time a full size, pouring himself a tall glass of vodka sloppily. Hell. He put that down, instead getting out some tequila, pouring himself a shot. One, two shots were knocked back. "Is this enough for you?" He spat, bringing the glass of vodka to his lips. "Am I wasted enough to be somewhat likeable yet?" He asked again, downing half the glass in a quick, brutal motion. His head was spinning, throat burning.

"I can't believe a word you say to me, Steve. The worst fuckin' part about it is?" He paused, staring at him as he got out the notebook. What was he up to now? "I _want_ to believe you-" Tony broke into a dry, mocking laugh, shaking his head.

Steve wasn't responding to his first question, or his second, or his statements. Instead, he was engrossed in his notebook. Tony was half tempted to whip the empty mickey at his head, but he wouldn't be brought to that- not yet. Scowling, Tony took the bottle of vodka into his hand, taking the glass with him. "You know what? Fuck you, Stephen Grahame Roberts. Fuck. You." He snarled, moving past him, going to the back of the plane. After everything, Steve still couldn't- "You couldn't be fucked to tell me the truth, huh?" He was yelling. His own voice was loud in his ears. Tony was throwing nothing short of a tantrum, full stop.

"Fuck you. Actually, I wish you would."

Those were his last words before he retreated to the bedroom in the back of the plane, passing out for the rest of the ride. He nursed the vodka, getting too drunk to stand, eventually falling asleep in a heap at the foot of the bed. He was angry, and he was crying, but he wouldn't let Steve see those frustrated tears.

He woke up only when the plane's wheels hit the tarmac. Even then, it took him a good 5 minutes to muster the strength to get out of the bed and walk back into the cabin. He smelled like liquor, face speaking of exhaustion. He turned to Steve, who was still seated, and spoke bluntly.

"Pepper's waiting for us on the pavement. If you don't want to be here, stay on board. The pilot will take you back home."

With that, Tony walked away from him, moving to leave the plane with the assistance of a flight attendant. He'd left his sunglasses- but he was still drunk- steps unsure as he waited for the airplane door to be opened for him.

* * *

It took a great deal of effort to remain seated and silent as poisonous angry words were snapped at him. If he just kept writing, focusing on getting it all out, he'd feel better, would have his head on straight and then he could figure out how to calm Tony down, to salvage this upset, but Tony didn't seem to want to wait around for that though. He could hear the other man down alcohol at a rapid alarming pace and Steve's jaw began to hurt as he clenched down tightly, stomach in knots because Tony getting _plastered_ would only complicate the process of making amends.

Tony was barreling past him, cursing at him, yelling at him and Steve felt _so low._ The lowest of lows. How had things deteriorated to this and under five minutes even? He hadn't meant to encourage Tony to drink with abandon. _One_ drink, just something to mellow him out... Still, the drinking _was_ a problem, Steve knew that and he should have known better. It was something he wanted to both talk and help Tony with. He had actually planned  on bringing it up while they were relaxing here in Malibu, but now he'd look like the biggest hypocrite.

The rest of the plane ride pasted in a sort of slow agony with Steve stewing and worrying, but working on his composition. When the Captain announced that they would be landing soon, he stuffed away the notebook and sat down, eyes closing as he focused on taking even breaths. Soon enough, a drunk bleary and unhappy Tony moving past him and offering Steve an out he didn't want to take.

Sighing, he stood, grabbed onto his bag tightly, slinging over his shoulder and resisting the urge to crowd behind Tony and help him. He was pretty sure his boyfriend would have snapped at him if he even dared to offer a hand or arm in support. Awkwardly, like a shunned puppy, they disembarked and a petite woman - Pepper Potts - awaited them with a car. The driver opened the door and assisted a staggering Tony into the back before going for their luggage.

"Huh..." Pepper looked to Steve, a displeased look on her face as she crossed her arms. "Did you let him drink the whole mini-bar, new boyfriend?"

"Uh..." Steve said unhelpfully. "I'm Steve." He extended his hand out. Be polite. It couldn't get worse than this, meeting someone Tony talked about and respected under such horrible circumstance.

After a moment of deliberation, she uncrossed her arms to shake his hand. "Pepper Potts."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am."

"Please don't be... careless with him," she said before whipping around and heading toward the car.

* * *

Pepper was waiting on the tarmac with Happy, and Tony couldn't have been more glad to see the both of them. "Pepper! Happy!" He drunkenly screamed, waving his arms about as he disembarked from the plane. He immediately went to give Happy a huge hug, one that Happy returned, albeit with some hesitation at the way Tony was acting.

"Er, Hi Boss."

"No. YOU the boss, Happy. My man!"

The jubilations continued as Pepper all but glared at Steve, immediately blaming him for the state of one Mr. Stark. Tony watched her walk briskly to the car, letting go of Happy so he could get their luggage. Pepper was moving toward the passenger seat, but Tony intercepted, placing his hand on her shoulder. "No no no," He started. "You're coming back here. With me. We gotta talk."

"Talk? Now?"

"Yes."

Tony wheeled her to the back of the car, yelling a loud 'thank you' at Happy as he struggled with Tony's heavy and large bag. Getting into the car before Steve did, Tony sat down next to Pepper, staring at her intently. "Pepper, don't freak out, but, there's a chance he- Steve- could be a murderer. Or Amish." Pepper, sighing, rubbed at her temples. "Tony-" "No, Pepper, I'm serious. Don't let his looks deceive you. Those thighs are full of fucking secrets- Hey-o!"

Tony's hush tone broke as Happy, and Steve, got into the car. "Did you have a good flight?" Happy asked, prompting a side-eye glare at Steve from Tony. "Of course." He muttered. Pepper leant over, doing up Tony's seatbelt for him, before sitting back to do up hers. "I mean, maybe a game of cards and some snacks woulda helped but, not too much to complain about. Hey, isn't Steve pretty? Doesn't he have that, fresh from a farm type look? Tell us, Steve, where did you grow up?"

The salt train apparently had no breaks, as Tony kept talking. His voice was loud and slurred, certainly not doing Happy any favors as the drove off the tarmac, onto the freeway.

"I, personally, think he's Amish. Maybe we should do the right thing and immediately return him to his people. Right?"

* * *

Apparently it could get more awkward because now he was sitting _across_ from his boyfriend. And Ms. Potts and apparently the driver was also friends with Tony too. No doubt everyone was blaming him for Tony being drunk while Steve was completely sober. Right now he would have done almost anything to _not_ be. He did up his seat belt and held onto his messenger bag in his lap. Hopefully it wasn't a long drive.

"Montana," Steve replied stiffly even though he was sure it was Tony just being petty because who knew if even _believed_ that answer anymore.

"Oh, where in--" Pepper tried, but Tony wasn't done and felt inclined to bring up the Amish purity and innocent thing again. It wasn't funny now, however. It wasn't said as a playful thing. Tony was out for blood.

"I'm-I'm not Amish," Steve mumbled, but didn't even bother to say anything else as he looked down. He had no idea how to navigate this tense environment, especially with the spectators. This was their first fight, Tony was drunk and still riled up, he didn't know anyone else out here either, he was almost completely dependent on Tony, not that he thought his boyfriend would kick him out or that things would be bad enough that _he'd_ want to leave, but--

He fidgeted, feeling a bit of panic, hands clasping the strap hard enough that his knuckles were white. It'd be okay. He could fix this. For the first time since the war, he thought he may be feeling scared even and all Steve could do was sit and hope the feeling would dissipate when the car ride was over and Tony had less alcohol in his bloodstream.

"Mr. Stark certainly likes his jokes," Pepper said smoothly. "Tony, why don't you drink some water." Not waiting for an answer, she reached to the car's small fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, handing it over to her boss.

* * *

Pepper's gaze darted between Tony and his boyfriend, attempting to evaluate the situation. Happy merely gripped the wheel in silence. Tony wasn't being playful, nor was he being upbeat; he was being a dick, and it was obviously making all of them uncomfortable.

"Got any scotch?" Tony asked in response, eyeing Pepper with one of his more demanding gazes. "Absolutely not." She replied, opening the bottle for him as Tony held onto it. Tony took a sip, but set it aside almost immediately, closing it again.

"Do you boys have any plans while you're in Malibu?" Pepper asked, trying to encourage Steve to participate in the conversation. Whether he enabled Tony or not, this was their first meeting. She felt compelled to be civil, despite Tony's obnoxiousness. "Just gonna show Steve what a good time is, I guess. But he's kind of a prude so I dunno how well that's going to go-" Pepper shot Tony a hard glance as Tony said this, lips pressed into a firm line. She raised a brow, giving him a 'really' sort of look, before turning back to Steve for his response.

The airport was a regional one, away from the heart of the city. It didn't take them long to drive up to Tony's estate. Happy got out first, blinking t the bike that sat in the driveway. "Whoah, what's this?" "Fuck." Tony exclaimed, piling out of the car sloppily. "Fuck. Steve. It's ah- a four month anniversary gift-" God, Tony felt dumb now, looking at the big flashy bike with a bigger, flashier ribbon strapped to it. "Steve likes bikes."

"Well, Steve, it was nice meeting you." Pepper spoke cordially, as she supervised Happy's unloading as their bags. "Be.. good to him, okay? And you-" She glanced at Tony. "Behave yourself."

She was about to turn on her heel and return to the car, however, she opened her purse first. "If you need anything, just call." Pepper explained, passing a business card with her cell number on it to Steve, before getting back in the car with Happy.

Tony waved them out of the driveway, turning to Steve with a crooked smile. "My- best- friends." He mumbled, leaning up against the bike. "Whatt'ya think, Steve-o? Is that even your name?"

* * *

He could tell that Pepper was trying and he appreciated it, Steve really did. He'd tell her at some point later because he knew that it took a special kind of fortitude to try and be a people pleaser and a peacekeeper. He sat silent the rest of the way and thankfully the ride was over sooner rather than later.

Slowly, he exited the vehicle and then Steve was gaping, the expensive flashy gift doing nothing for his nervousness. A distant part of his brain was telling him that now at least he could escape if he needed to.

No. He wouldn't run because of one dreadful day and the strain that was following it. He _loved_ Tony, he would make things right, even if he had to beg the other man to just give him some more time. He'd go back, talk with Ms. Fellows and then he could set things right.

He took the business card, stuffing it somewhere in his bag with a grim smile on his face. "Thanks Ms. Potts, I appreciate it." She was fantastic, that was for sure. Maybe he'd ask her for advice later, but that seemed like he'd be overstretching. Still, it was tempting to simply _consider_ it.

Alone now, he took cautious steps toward Tony. "They're very nice," Steve answered softly. "This bike is also very nice." He ignored the quip about his name. "I'm so sorry I hurt you..."

* * *

Tony was wincing at the sun, his eyes unable to take the sunlight right now. "Where are my goddamn sunglasses...." He muttered under his breath, unaware that he'd left them in the plane. He looked down at the bike, moving away from it to circle it. J.A.R.V.I.S. had done a good job of getting that pulled together, but...

Lifting his gaze toward Steve, he caught him just in time for his apology. Tony just shook his head, sighing through his nose. "I can't talk about shit here." He spoke, before taking his bag, leading the way into his house.

The house was just as extravagant as the Tower, albeit with a few more personal touches. There were a few more pictures on the walls; Tony doing various things, receiving awards, posing with people of influence. He spent more time here, usually, but Steve kept him in New York. There was still a kind of stylized emptiness to the house, reflective of Tony Stark's own issues.

He left his bag at the door, walking into the kitchen. "Pepper's such a good girl." He commented, upon seeing a bunch of apples on the counter, and even more groceries in the fridge. He needed water, and so he got a bottle out of the fridge, sipping it. He wouldn't drink it under Pepper's suggestion, but now, it'd be fine.

"Steve," He started, keeping some distance between himself and the other man. Mostly, the island between them, complete with Pepper's apple arrangement in a shallow bowl. "You know... how hard it is.. when every second of every day, I want to be able to tell you how much I love you? And how much it scares me that I think-" He reached for an apple, taking a bite mid sentence. His tone wasn't as angry as it was before, but there was certainly frustration there. "- I think I love you, a lot."

He paused, putting the half eaten apple down. He had a big mouth, and his 'bite' was half of it. His words had been muffled by apple, but as he swallowed, his next ones were much more clear.

"But I can't tell you that shit, because I don't know who you are. Four months and I know as much about you as the day I met you. I can't tell you that. Not when things are like this. Steve, what the hell are you hiding from me?"

He paused again, looking at the apple.

"And don't be pissy at me 'cause I'm drunk. You wanted this."

* * *

"Sunglasses? Probably on the plane..." but Tony wasn't paying him much attention to him, announcing that he wouldn't talk about this 'shit' outside and leading the way into the luxuriant looking house (mansion?). Steve didn't even have a chance to offer to bring their bags because Tony was bound and determined to lug his own suitcase with no help so Steve carried his own items a few steps behind.

Once again, Steve found himself gobsmacked at the beautiful surroundings, glancing around and trying to take it all in. He didn't comment on what he saw knowing Tony wasn't in the mood for such trivial chatter. He slipped off his shoes Ave jacket at the door and then meandered over to Tony who had stopped in the kitchen, thankfully to drink some more water.

He placed his hands on the counter, palms flat so he wouldn't fidget while when Tony started talking. Listening to the heartfelt confession wasn't easy, but at least his partner had calmed down some, less heat in his words than before. He was between a rock and a hard place, that uneasiness still curling in his stomach because he wanted to give SHIELD 'the bird' as Tony would say - Steve had gone against orders before - Bucky had been worth it... And Tony was too, wasn't he? The longer he withheld the truth, the more frightening the prospect of coming clean was.

He frowned at the implication that Tony thought he _wanted_ him drunk. He had known that his drink comment would come to back to bite him and here it was. "Sweetheart..." Steve begun and decided to risk physical contact. Maybe he'd get a slap or another 'Fuck you,' but he felt like he might be able to reach Tony a bit better if they were touching.

He strode around the island and took Tony's hands gently in his own. "I never _want_ you to be drunk, it was stupid of me to say that. And you're entirely justified in what you've brought up. I promise you, it's nothing scandalous, baby." Steve bridged the distance and kissed Tony on the forehead before rushing on, wanting to get everything out. "I'm not a bad person, I swear. Please just give me a bit more time to get myself together as I will tell you everything. It can be a proper interrogation, handcuffs and all." When what he just offered dawned on Steve he let out a small chuckle. "Guess that would be a bit kinky..."

* * *

Tony really wanted to eat the rest of that apple. In fact, he was giving it side glances as Steve approached him. His thoughts were going back and forth from eating it to possibly throwing it at his boyfriend's head, that is if he said anything that Tony could define as dumb.

But- goddammit- Steve was being charming. Tony froze a little bit as Steve approached him, brows pulling together. A sentence formed on his tongue- _what, you gonna reject me again?-_ but those big hands were encasing his own and Steve was talking to him, quickly, but his words were slow enough for Tony to comprehend. He took a step closer to him, resting his chin and cheek on Steve's shoulder, head turned. After all, he had just told Steve that he loved him. Or was at least falling in love with him.

"I'm surprised you know what the word _kink_ means."

Tony mumbled, taking a deep breath as he leaned against his boyfriend. He sighed through his nose, thinking about what he said, tapping one of his fingers against Steve's hand as it was held. "Fine. As long as you let me wear the handcuffs at some point, too."

The words were somewhat final. Tony leant back, pulling Steve's hands down a little. "Give me a kiss?" He asked, before very lightly pressing his lips to Steve's, pulling him down in order to do so.

"Now, I need a goddamn nap. You're welcome to do whatever. Make yourself at home. Take the bike out. Just.. come back, okay?"

He spoke, letting go of his hands. He took the half eaten apple, turning, walking off to his room.

* * *

He hadn't been cursed at or pelted with the apple so things were of too a much better start than their plane ride. Steve held Tony snugly, guilty conscience soothed a bit by their closeness. "Hey, I did  do some research when you mentioned that golden thing-- uh... I forgot what it was called, but I _wasn't_ into it," The blonde replied wryly. That had been one very interesting internet search, similar to Alice going down the rabbit hole, one thing leading to the other and yeah. Educational and eye opening at the same time. "If we decide to play with handcuffs, we can definitely share." That did sound kind of interesting...

Steve liked when Tony asked, but then took when he knew it would be allowed, such as a kiss. Something about the combination of seeking permission and taking initiative mixed together. He returned the kiss, a chaste touch before Tony was pulling back and announcing his intentions for a nap. "Not going anywhere, don't you worry."

"--And I'm tucking you in," Steve added on as he followed his boyfriend from the kitchen, wary eyes watching the other man's every step in case he should blunder. When they reached what Steve assumed was the master bedroom he grabbed Tony's jacket, "No no, you're not sleepin' in your clothes, love." With a mild amount of fuss, Steve stripped each article of clothing off until his boyfriend was down to his skivvies and helped him into the bed.

"Can I stay with you till you fall asleep at least?" Steve would sit on the floor if that was all that was allowed.

* * *

"Good. I'm glad you're not into golden showers. That's one of the few things you could do that would _not_ turn me on."

Tony murmured, his voice muffled by Steve's broad chest. This was nice. Steve was nice. Except for when he was telling him to take drinks, but Tony hoped that would never happen again. Partly because it struck a particularly uncomfortable chord with him.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the kiss, smiling into Steve's warm, soft lifts. This boy. This boy who made him so infuriatingly frustrated and yet could calm him down with one look, one word. His sweetheart. He wanted to trust him, he wanted to be able to tell him how much he loved him, but this was all riding on the hope that whatever skeletons Steve had in the closet didn't dance.

Surprisingly, Tony didn't stumble at all as he lead the way to his bedroom. He was quiet as Steve undressed him, smaller body warm with his intoxication. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself as Steve helped him into bed, practically tucking the blankets around his body. He appreciated it, though his drunk mind thought it was a little unnecessary. Sober Tony probably would have been a bit more appreciative.

Tony's brows pulled together at what Steve said, shooting him a glance of uncertainty. "Well..." He paused. "If you really wanna. And if you really want to knock me out, there's scotch under the bed."

The older man spread out his limbs, making it clear Steve wasn't quite welcome in the bed yet. Instead, he draped one hand over the edge of the bed, offering it to the blonde. They could hold hands for now. "The Queen needs her beauty rest." He muttered, words somewhat slurred. The alcohol and emotional exhaustion were hitting him; it didn't take him long after that to fall asleep, head tipped back, snoring ever so quietly. He didn't usually snore, but when he was drunk and sleeping in a certain manner, he did.

* * *

Without complaint, Steve sat down next to the bed, back up against the mattress and he took the outstretched hand. "No, no Scotch for you, jerk," the blonde replied softly. His boyfriend was phenomenal with holding grudges, usually in jest, but Steve had a feeling he wouldn't be living down his 'go get a drink' comment for a while.

When Tony dropped off to sleep, Steve sighed and his other hand came up to stroke the back of Tony's clasped hand with his fingertips. "Once upon a time there was a boy, who, ironically, was named Steve... Now, this boy was no Prince Charming, he was actually a shrimp, but I supposed he was brave, or perhaps just foolish because he had a real talent with pickin' fights with bullies."

Steve chuckled a bit at the memory. His own history seemed more and more like someone else's story, perhaps because he had been living for nearly half a year lying. Would the truth set him free when he confessed to Tony? Steve didn't know, but he'd tell him soon because it was apparent that his boyfriend had had enough of vague and ambiguous answers and half-truths.

He didn't continue on with his little story, Steve just holding onto Tony's hand in the dark, thinking about the day's crazy events from his morning phone call with Ms. Fellows to the airplane disaster, the awkward car ride, Tony's friends/employees, that beautiful motorbike and then... Tony all but saying that he loved him, but wouldn't say it until he knew everything. It certainly had been a roller coaster of events, but things seemed to be levelling off now, thankfully.

As it was nearing supper time, Steve decided he'd see what he could get up to in the stocked kitchen. He left a napping Tony and made his way back into the kitchen, poking around until he decided that spaghetti and meat sauce would be simple enough to endeavour. It took him a few minutes to get situated, pulling out a frying pan for the hamburger and a large pot for the pasta, checking cupboards for a cutting board but eventually he get himself in working order. Steve even connected his phone to the Bluetooth speakers, selecting some Nirvana, which was one of Tony's favourites. Thirty minutes later he was chopping up some vegetables and dumping them in with a jar of pre-seasoned tomato sauce and cooked hamburger.

* * *

 Tony slept in a hard, dreamless sleep. He awoke with a bit of a headache and emptiness in his hand, which he immediately noticed; Steve wasn't there. Steve wasn't there, but there was the smell of something tasty and the sound of _Come As You Are_ by Nirvana seemingly on repeat throughout the house.  
  
Damn, had Steve been able to figure out the Bluetooth?  
  
His anger had melted with his intoxication. Now, Tony was just tired. He was tired of acting like he was fine with being left in the dark. He was tired of being frustrated, of being angry, of being denied when it came to sex. He was hoping that a part of Steve was tired, too. Surely, it would make working this out easier if they were both on a similar page. Tony slowly slinked out of bed, putting on a plaid pair of pyjama pants and a black t-shirt. He followed the smell to the kitchen, attempting to sneak up on Steve.  
  
"So you figured out the Bluetooth function, but not the repeat function, eh?"  
  
Tony finally spoke up, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. He had an easy grin on his face, eyes soft as he admired his boyfriend. God, he was so hard to stay mad at. Tony drummed his fingers against his arms, raising a brow as he pushed off the wall to walk toward him. "You're making.. dinner?" He spoke as if the concept were foreign. Rather, he was simply impressed, a little overwhelmed by Steve's sweet kindness.

* * *

Steve was lost in his own world of managing the various stages of the meal prep - keeping an eye out on the pasta as to not over boil or overcook it, watching the sauce and wondering back to his phone to press the back button to listen to the song _just one more time._

He picked up on Tony ambling about in his room and turned down the music just a bit in order to facilitate conversation, because he assumed they would be taking. Hoped they would be, at any rate. When the other man wandered into the kitchen, Steve was stirring the pasta sauce and smiled, taking in the nice and casual appearance of Tony. He looked soft, but still worn out.  
  
“I told you three times would be a charm, I'm now the master of Bluetoothing,” he announced, setting down the spoon and coming to meet Tony halfway. “And I do know about repeat… I just kept thinking I was going to only listen to it one more time, but I guess it's been a handful of times now. It's a good song.” He shrugged and kissed the tip of Tony's nose. “Is his Majesty feeling a bit better now?” Tony had referred to himself as a Queen earlier, but Steve didn't really care for that, thought it was a little derogatory. “We are having spaghetti with meat sauce, sound okay?”

* * *

Tony hummed along to the music a little bit, blushing as Steve kissed his nose. "I'm surprised you like this song. It's a little dark for you, Steve-o." He tilted his head up, catching a quick kiss on Steve's chin. Food was a definite way to Tony's heart, especially when it was something he liked as much as spaghetti.

"A little bit. Still got a headache though." He spoke softly, beginning to rummage around the cupboards for Advil. He popped two pills when he eventually found the bottle, looking pleased with himself upon doing so. He nodded in agreement with the menu, moving to steal a little taste of the sauce from Steve.

Dinner went well, their conversation light. Tony talked about Malibu, and briefly, about his dad. It was easier to talk about him here instead of New York, where he could feel his father's shadow boring down on his back. He talked a little bit of his childhood, of his father's infatuation and-

"So, yeah. Captain America was my first boy crush. Something about his hair, and that jaw, and those shoulders just really got me going when I was 14." Tony laughed.

He wanted to set an example, though Tony wasn't often the example setting type. Moreso, he wanted to show Steve the way. He didn't want to rush him, but he was getting impatient, and hopefully talking about his own past would spur Steve on. He pushed his food around on his plate, humming to himself.

"Do you.. want to make a blanket fort? And just take it easy tonight? I don't want to do anything besides talk with you and.. I think we could both use it."

* * *

"It's poignant," Steve responded about the song, returning to finish the last few tasks before they could actually consume what he hoped would be a satisfactory attempt at a peace offering supper. He had made food for Tony before, nothing amazing, mostly easy things like grilled cheese or fried eggs.

_Come doused in mud, soaked in bleach_

_As I want you to be_

_As a trend, as a friend_

_As an old_

_Memoria, memoria_

_Memoria, memoria_

_When I swear that I don't have a gun_

_No I don't have a gun..._

He tuned the song back out out, "Okay, maybe a little dark." Supper went well, Tony seemed to enjoy both the sentiment and the offering of food. Then out of nowhere came Tony opening up _more,_ this time about freakin' _Captain America_ and his young crush on him and Steve almost choked on his food at the admission. He hadn't been prepared to hear such a revelation especially one about himself that he couldn't even address! It was crazy. "Y-yeah, good looking guy," was all he managed to say about that little disclosure. It sure made him feel good on the inside, though.

At the suggestion of a blanket fort Steve's face lit up. He was a sucker for things like this - boyish activities that he had never been too successful at doing when he was an actual child due to his poor health. "That sounds great, I bet you're fantastic at designing them too," enthused Steve. He assumed Tony would be as he was a mechanic and inventor at heart.

* * *

"Very good looking. Maybe that's why I like you so much, you look a dead ringer. And you're a Steve." Tony chuckled, playing footsies with him as they ate dinner. "You don't even want to know about the lewd Captain America sex dreams I had as a teenager. Oh man. I also dreamt about him rescuing me from my parents... and my homework..."

At the affirmation that Steve wanted to make a fort, too, Tony grinned wildly. "Hell yeah." He spoke. "Okay, you stay here and take care of whatever you did to my kitchen and I'll make the fort. Okay?"

Not waiting too long for an answer, Tony was off. Making a fort both appealed to his slight immaturity, but also to his engineering side. He quickly stripped the couches of their cushions, throwing them to the floor. He then found a couple of spare mic stands (Pepper kept them around for parties, and Tony sometimes used them for air banding) and set them up, using them as posts for the sheet. He draped the sheet over the mic stands and the two couches, ending up with a large, roomy, tent-like structure.

Pleased with the basic structure, Tony brought in his own pillows and blankets, filling the fort with softness and comfort. Just incase he did get lucky, he also slipped a small bottle of expensive lube into his pyjama pants pocket. Certain topics he wouldn't let lie down, and he hoped that an atmospheric cuddle session would bring some answers out of his boyfriend. He strung light, tiny LED lights over the top of the structure, setting them for a six hour timer. They could fall asleep 'under the stars', happily in his living room.

"Steve-o." He called out, admiring his work. "Come check this out."

* * *

 _You're a Steve..._ Yep, he sure was. God, Steve wanted to to spill the beans so much right now. He practically had the groundwork laid out to do so, but no, not like this, not over spaghetti and Tony mentioning his sex dreams about the man on a poster. Maybe the setup wasn't so perfect after all...

They split into their own tasks - Tony setting up the fort, Steve taking care to clean up the kitchen, which Steve sort of found to be bullshit as _he'd_ cooked it. Growing up, whoever had cooked usually got off dish duty, he thought it was a fairly reasonable arrangement.

"Jarvis, what are the chances of getting Tony to see reason that he should help do dishes as I cooked?" Not that Steve would actually even try to get that to happen as he didn't think he was in any position to demand or even ask it, but he sort of liked talking to Jarvis anyway. Jarvis was very nifty and convenient.

"Practically zero, Mr. Steve," the AI responded banally.

Well, Jarvis knew Tony best - if that made any sense. With an amused huff, he set his mind to the job at hand and had the kitchen tidy once more and leftovers put away in about fifteen minutes. Around the same time, Tony was calling to him and he curiously navigated his way to the living room.

What greeted him was a twinkling spectacle of a masterpiece. "Now, that's what I call a blanket fort," Steve exclaimed upon further appraisal of the structure. He took a few steps around it, wanting to take in every angle. He wasn't going to climb in wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt so Steve thought nothing of stripping down to blacks silk boxers that had been a gift from Tony.  He didn't even bother folding his clothes, too excited to _get into_ the damn thing. "Let's go check it out!" He got down to his knees and crawled into their makeshift room.

* * *

Tony paid no mind to the banter that went on between his AI and his boyfriend, instead choosing to make sure that the fort was just right in the few seconds Tony had before Steve walked in. Steve's reaction was endearing and then he was- oh, he was stripping- and he was wearing-

Swallowing hard, Tony took off his shirt, reactor pulsating. He was wearing the boxers Tony had given him. Goddamn.

"You like it?" He laughed, following the larger man down onto the floor. He tucked the sheet down, looking over his boyfriend in the hazy light that was given from the warm white of the LED lights. "Isn't this.. awesome?" Tony laughed, moving over his boyfriend. In the small space, Tony had no excuse not to be on top of him, and so...

Tony gently pressed Steve down looking down at him as he straddled his hips. He pushed Steve's hair back with one hand, the other resting on his lover's chest.

"Look, I'm sorry about- the- well- I'm sorry about who I am as a person." Tony hummed, cracking a smile. "And how it impacted today." Apologies were not his thing. "And, Steve, I want you to know that I really hope you have a good time here. With me. Can we start today over again? Right now?" He paused. "You're still not off the hook for being a jerk and or hiding whatever you're hiding from me, but for now, let's..." He paused, running his hand up and down Steve's chest. "Let's just _be together,_ okay?"

* * *

He laid down at Tony's insistence, steadying his boyfriend as he climbed on top. Steve rested his hands on pajama clad thighs, squeezing appreciatively. "Consider me won over and impressed by your genius," Steve commented, completely enthralled and actually pretty comfortable all things considered. By far, this moment ranked among his top 5 for dates with the great Tony Stark and all it had taken was some well placed blankets, pillows and little lights.

Steve's smile dimmed, eyes turning throughout as he listened to the apology. How had he got so lucky to find someone this understanding and tolerant? Sure, Tony had pretty much thrown a tantrum earlier. Obviously his boyfriend was impulsive, tempestuous even, and alcohol didn't help that one bit, but when it came down to it both of them ended up in a blanket fort together and still _trying.That's_ what mattered. _That's_ what gave him hope for them really working out and actually having a future.

God. What a frightening and exciting thing to think about...

"Okay. Yes. Definitely... and thanks," he replied genuinely, his hand coming to grab onto Tony's and bringing the back to his mouth, brushing his mouth against knuckles. "Been too long since we kissed, let's change that, yeah?"

* * *

There was a smile and a blush given as Steve's hands rested first on his thighs, playfully flexing them as he squeezed. "The rest of America already is. Glad you got the memo about loving my brilliance." He teased, leaning down to give him a sweet nose bump in response. Steve had made him sappy and affectionate, but Tony didn't mind. There was nowhere else he'd rather be right now, and no one else he'd rather be with. He adored this- the sparkle of the lights catching in Steve's eyes, the warmth of their bodies keeping the space intimate.

That's how this felt, wasn't it? _Intimate._ All prompted by a discussion on Tony's childhood.

"Yeah. Yeah, Steve.." He paused. "As long as you don't reject me this time."

With that, Tony leaned down, moving in to kiss him deeply.

* * *

"Wouldn't dream of it," Steve murmured as a mouth approached his own and he kissed back fervently, pouring all of his frustrations from earlier into the kiss. Not being coy, he licked into his boyfriend's mouth, pulling out every trick in the book that he had learned in the months of many, many make out sessions. He was going for maximum impact, seeking to ensure that Tony knew he was wanted, was desired and that Steve was so completely _there_ for it.

His hands roamed over Tony's back, enjoying the slight musculature, nails dragging down until he reached a waist and Steve clenched so he could make to rock Tony back and forth against his hardening erection.

Breaking away from the kiss with a small nip to Tony's bottom lip, Steve gave a shaky huff, arousal making him feel hazy as he looked into eyes that were nearly black from pupils being so blown. "Been thinking today and wanted to ask you... Would you have sex with me?" Not quite right. Not specific enough. Steve swallowed before amending, "I mean, would you fuck _me_?"

A lot of dirty talk surrounded the idea of Steve _fucking_ Tony, and he wanted to, he  _really_ did, but it seemed the more practical thing for his first time to be the other way around. He trusted Tony to help him out in this and he held no qualms about his masculinity or anything ridiculous like that. Steve knew Tony did it both ways in the past - _switched_ \- his mind recalled, so maybe it would be okay?

* * *

"Wouldn't dream of it," Steve murmured as a mouth approached his own and he kissed back fervently, pouring all of his frustrations from earlier into the kiss. Not being coy, he licked into his boyfriend's mouth, pulling out every trick in the book that he had learned in the months of many, many make out sessions. He was going for maximum impact, seeking to ensure that Tony knew he was wanted, was desired and that Steve was so completely _there_ for it.

His hands roamed over Tony's back, enjoying the slight musculature, nails dragging down until he reached a waist and Steve clenched so he could make to rock Tony back and forth against his hardening erection.

Breaking away from the kiss with a small nip to Tony's bottom lip, Steve gave a shaky huff, arousal making him feel hazy as he looked into eyes that were nearly black from pupils being so blown. "Been thinking today and wanted to ask you... Would you have sex with me?" Not quite right. Not specific enough. Steve swallowed before amending, "I mean, would you fuck _me_?"

A lot of dirty talk surrounded the idea of Steve _fucking_ Tony, and he wanted to, he _really_ did, but it seemed the more practical thing for his first time to be the other way around. He trusted Tony to help him out in this and he held no qualms about his masculinity or anything ridiculous like that. Steve knew Tony did it both ways in the past - _switched_ \- his mind recalled, so maybe it would be okay?

* * *

_Wouldn't dream of it._

For once, was Steve not going to turn him away? As their mouths and bodies collided, Tony held onto a bit of hope that Steve wouldn't back away this time. Wouldn't push him off this time, or otherwise send him off. But the kiss this time was intense. Tony rocked his body against Steve's erection, moaning into his mouth.

A beg was forming on the tip of his tongue as Steve bit at his lip; his body trembling, Tony wanted nothing more than to let out a string of declarations of how good Steve's body felt and how badly he wanted him. Instead he was greeted with a question. A question that both made his heart soar and paralyzed him with nervousness. "Yes." Tony replied, voice raspy with desire as he looked down over Steve's form. 

Honestly, the question surprised him. There was something to be said for the amount of trust Steve was ever so willingly throwing into Tony's hands. Tony leaned down to kiss a line down the side of Steve's face, humming. "Yeah, I'll do that. Of course I will." His fingers were shaking as they crossed Steve's chest, feeling his musculature. He gripped and played with a nipple absently as he thought, smiling to himself, glancing down at his boyfriend's face.

"God, you are so beautiful, you know that? I can't say no to you, darling." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sooooo! o_o Bottom!Steve next chapter. For our story, it _mostly_ will be top!Steve, but they do switch, which I think is a more interesting dynamic overall - hopefully it doesn't turn you off. :)
> 
> Comments are super appreciatedddd! Pretty please. :]


	8. Dating a relic, dating the future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never had he ever wanted to tell someone he loved them as much as he loved Steve. Those words were perfect and suiting and yet.. he couldn't say them. Not yet. He pressed his forehead to Steve's, giving a half frustrated sigh, the other half of exhaustion and sexual relief. He didn't know what to think half the time. "You have me on my knees, Steve." Tony spoke quietly, lifting his head to gaze back into his eyes. "I'll do anything for you, I adore you..." _I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 Although we did start writing a Stony porn AU that has eaten away our brains, we have not forgotten about this lovely baby of our's! Enjoy this chapter.

Steve couldn't quite believe what was happening - laying naked on his back, spreading his legs apart for Tony so he could use his fingers to prepare him, to stretch him open wide enough that Tony's cock could slide in. Tony was gonna _fuck_ him. It was a heady realization, had him biting his lip in anticipation. In the middle of Tony's Malibu living room, tucked away in a blanket fort that had little hanging lights decorating it, Tony and he were going to be as intimate as they had ever been - as physically connected as they had ever been.

He more or less knew the oncoming process, but still Tony had explained it softly to him amidst reassuring kisses as his boyfriend slipped off his silk boxers. It was going to take time and patience and Steve was trying to mentally ready himself as he lay completely exposed to his partner.

Maybe it didn't make much sense for him to be be relinquishing control like this - Steve didn't feel like he had very much power in his current life - but maybe that's exactly why he needed this. Maybe he had to finally let go and trust Tony - to _really_ trust him and take some risks.

Steve could let this happen.

No, Steve _would_ let this happen. At the sound of a cap flipping open, the blonde glanced up watching Tony coat his fingers in clear lubricant and he took a deep breath, not knowing what to expect.

* * *

Tony had peeled Steve's boxers from him, kissing a line down the other man's pelvis. He was beginning to know Steve's body as well as his own; each dip, curve and expanse of skin growing familiar to him. His body was his home, now, and tonight would only deepen that.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, darling." He followed up, moving back up. He pinched and rolled at one of Steve's nipples, masking his nervousness with a type of overexertion- over-activity- over-something to give his nervous hands something to do. "I'm going to get you nice and relaxed for me, okay? We're going to take this easy..." He breathed, looking down at his lover's face with a gaze of concern. "I'll talk you through it."

Normally, Tony wasn't this conversational. But this was different. This man was, quite possibly, the love of his life, and he was spread-eagled, physically asking him for it, and Tony needed to make this good for him.

"I've got lube to make it better for.. well, both of us, really." He spoke quietly. "Can't go without it.."

Being Steve's first was an honor and a curse. An honor because this beautiful man was all _his_ , and a curse because they were working with hypotheses right now. Theoretically, Steve would like this. Tony _knew_ he liked this. But penetration was kind of a big deal, and there was a chance Steve would hate it, or even worse, that Tony would hurt him. "Before I go any farther, though.." He breathed, flipping open the cap off the bottle of lube.

His free hand went down to wrap around the base of Steve's cock, giving him a squeeze as he began to stroke him off. "... I need you to be vocal for me, baby. I know you like to bite those lips of yours, but not tonight. You need to tell me what feels good, and what doesn't." His strokes became a little tighter, wanting to warm him up for this. Wanting him to know that this was about him, too. "If I'm hurting you, tell me I'm hurting you. If it feels good, show me how good it feels. Can you do that for me, darling?"

Tony gave a breathy pause, thumb moving across the tip of Steve's hardened cock. He then removed his hands, dispensing a good amount of lube between them, rubbing his hands together to warm it up. Once given the go-ahead, he adjusted his position over his boyfriend, leaving the lube next to his hip.

"This might be a little weird, but trust me, and breathe." He spoke to him, voice lowered as he pressed a finger against Steve's hole. He spread the lube over him, being careful not to rush as he carefully inserted one finger, craning for a spot that he knew would make Steve's knees shake. "Does that feel good, baby?" He asked, waiting for that affirmation before pressing a second finger inside. He was so _tight,_ and _hot,_ and it was making his own cock twitch in its boxer-and-pyjama-clad prison. "You feel so good to me..."

* * *

He was being told to _not_ hush himself and Steve was blushing at that implication because he _knew_ it was true. He _did_ try and keep quieter, quieter than Tony at any rate. Steve supposed some of it was a thing of his upbringing - men were generally encouraged to keep their expression of feelings and the like to a minimum. When he had dallied a bit with the tour's dancers or during his brief stint as a soldier, it was often rushed and not in the most relaxed of settings. Now, though? Now he could  fully indulge and was expected to be vocal.

He would do that. He would try his best to be present and participate in this moment fully with Tony.

He first nodded in response, making a slight strangled sound as Tony's hand worked over his dick, but that wouldn't do, would it? He was to be more vocal so Steve licked at his lips, heart pounding, closed his eyes and gasped out, "I can do that, Tony."

It _was_ weird - a slick finger pushing gently inside his body - an awkward slightly uncomfortable sensation accompanying the slide. Steve breathed deeply, hands coming to clutch at the blankets beneath him. Once the digit was completely inside, Tony paused, soothing sounds given as he fought to get his body to acclimatize to the intrusion. "Okay... That's not too bad," Steve commented with a bit of a chuckle. It was _strange,_ but not exactly unpleasant.

The finger retreated only to glide back in, a slow pace and then an adjustment inside had Steve shuddering, a groan working out of his mouth as a buzz of pleasure excited his nerves. "Y-eah, feels good," Steve acknowledged, panting, eyes blinking open and trying to focus on the blurry lights hanging on the outside of their blanket fort. The unhurried thrusting continued until the resistance faded enough for another finger to be added and Steve was wincing, eyebrows furrowed, but with patience, his body, too, accepted it.

Every so often Tony would crook his fingers and a jolt would follow, sending Steve reeling and noises flowing from his mouth - a few curses, Tony's name and sharp intakes of breath. "It's... It's... intense when you do that," he commented, trying to hold to his word to be more communicative.

* * *

Tony's other hand came to rest on the inside of Steve's opposite thigh, touching and stroking the skin he found there. He wanted to tell him a lot. Maybe tell him everything. _You're so cute. I love you._ But he found himself slightly muted, more intent on hearing every little fraction of sound that his darling made.

This was terrifyingly intimate, and he was finding himself at his gentlest when it came to the actions he performed on Steve. He was careful to allow him some time to adjust and get used to him, interspersing thrusting actions with slow, light circles around his rim. Tony ducked down, kissing the inside of one knee as Steve commented that it wasn't too bad, tongue momentarily pressing against his lover's soft skin. He wanted to devour him; to wreck him, to leave him thinking about this for days. But for now? He'd take it easy. And maybe he'd tell him a few of the things he was thinking about.

As he pushed past the knuckle inside of him, Tony paid attention to what looked like it felt good for him; he slipped his fingers in and out with long, slow strokes, not doing anything much of a stretching motion just yet. "Good." He breathed, pausing. "You're such a good boy for me, Steve." His two fingers craned, he found that spot that Steve called intense, paying a little bit of extra attention to it. "Tell me what it feels like. Can you feel your toes?" He asked, watching Steve's expression.

He knew three fingers would be hard- the wince at the second gave him enough information- and so he gradually began to scissor the two left inside of him. "Is that okay?" Tony asked. His own body was trembling ever so slightly in anticipation. The way the light shone on Steve's perfectly symmetrical and soft face- _god._ This was all his, and he was all the other's. "Tell me if it's too much... I've gotta get you ready for my thick cock."

Well, a little bit of ego-stroking wouldn't hurt anyone, would it?

* * *

It delighted Steve to hear the praise - _such a good boy for me, Steve_ \- and the blonde could feel himself flush from the words. He wanted nothing more than to keep on being worthy of the appreciation. He was trying to find the correct words for the question, how that particular spot felt, but it was no easy feat, pleasure and the newness of the situation making his brain stupid. "Ahhh... Just... Sensitive, almost like, too much?" he mumbled, stomach muscles quivering as he tried to hold himself together when Tony saw fit to brush against his prostate again.

He wiggled experimentally as the fingers inside him shifted into a different motion. The perplexing tightness was easing, Steve still more than a little taken back at the body's wonders, how it could be manipulated into accepting such a thing.

Then, none other than a classic Tony line was given and Steve was caught between wanting to laugh and moan at the statement, but it was so very much Tony. "Good Lord, what am I supposed to say that, baby?" He asked breathlessly, flexing his legs out, trying to remain grounded through it all.

* * *

Tony laid off on his prostate for now with what Steve said, not wanting to send him reeling just yet. He smiled down at him, admiring the flush on his cheeks, the way he looked at the moment; breathless and vulnerable. Tony didn't take that vulnerability lightly. He kissed the inside of his knee again, before paying more mind to his fingers, withdrawing them to simply work around the rim.

A bright smile crossed his face as Steve asked him, watching the blonde move his legs in the most beautiful way. The reactor and the lights bounced off his flawless skin, giving him an almost ethereal glow about him. "I dunno. Probably a 'Yes Tony, you've got such a nice cock, and I want it so bad'." Tony laughed, adjusting his posture to lean over him a little.

He continued to simply tease his hole, fingers getting a little more firm in their circular motions. He leaned down to plant a soft kiss on his cheek, shifting up a little in order to do so. "Are you ready for more?" A third finger prodded his hole, joining the others in teasing him. "You have to tell me, baby."

At the affirmation that he was good, Tony very slowly eased a third into him. He stopped at the knuckle, simply allowing Steve a breath to adjust. "Such a good boy." He breathed to himself, eyes hazy with lust as he looked over Steve's body. "Such a beautiful, good boy."

* * *

Fingertips teasing along the rim, the light touch had Steve's chest heaving and his body squirming at the maddening touch. He felt oddly empty without the fingers moving inside of him, a strange loss that he wanted back.

"Yes Tony, you've got such a nice cock...and I want it... _so bad_ ," Steve parroted, voice a little higher with need. He was being a bit of what Tony called a troll, but the words were true - he _did_ want this and as the minutes ticked by he grew more excited about what was coming, anticipation bringing about a good sort of  jittery feeling in the pit of his stomach.

At the inquiry of adding another finger, Steve murmured, "Yeah, yes... Put 'em back in." And Tony complied, three fingers sliding their way into his channel with only the slightest amount of contention. His body's urge was to clench down and stop the entry, but Steve fought against it hard, knowing that this was all apart of the necessary process.

When he had adjusted enough, Steve was pushing himself down on those fingers, "Okay, okay, start up again."

* * *

Tony broke into a smile again at Steve's words, not exactly expecting him to say it back word for word. He licked his teeth a little, humming. "There you go."

He focused instead on his fingers and Steve's responses, concerned as he initially looked strained- but that faded fast. "Goddamn." He breathed as Steve started pushing down on his fingers. He indulged him, slowly thrusting the three digits into him. "You want this, don't you, baby?" He breathed. Like it needed to be asked. He thrusted into and stretched him, fingers moving at a painstakingly slow pace. He was being _too_ cautious and _too_ slow; he wanted to bring that heaving chest back, the quivers.

"Don't forget. I want you moaning for me." Tony spurred, fingers curling for his prostate as he spoke. "I'll stop if you're not."

Tony withdrew his fingers once he felt that Steve was stretched enough, instead using both hands to pull down and discard his pants and boxers. He deposited lube into his other hand, rocking back onto his heels. "How are you feeling?" He asked, spreading the lube over his own cock. He also added more to his fingertips, ever so lightly pressing them against his hole again. He teased him for a moment, before moving on to other plans.

The hand slick with lube moved from his own cock to Steve's. He leant over him, positioning his slick, heavy cock against Steve's, stroking them together. "Can you feel how bad I want you?" Tony asked, squeezing their cocks in unison. "That's all for you, baby. My darling." He leant down, leaning in to kiss him as he withdrew, rocking back a little bit, lips naturally breaking as he did so. He moved down, kissing and sucking on the inside of his thigh, one of his fingers going to tease him.

"I need you to tell me exactly what you want. And how ready you are." He paused, eyes shifting up for him. He was touching him as lightly as he could, intending to break him. One of his hands moved over Steve's cock, squeezing and stroking, hoping to jar him with both sensations at once. He wanted him shaking. He wanted- "I want you begging for me." The words came out husky, nearly involuntary, as Tony gazed down at him, warm eyes darkened with his lust.

* * *

It was a little embarrassing, hearing Tony ask a question that he already knew the answer to. _You want this, don't you, baby?_ Steve's response to that was half-cut off exclamation of, " _Fuck_." Any semblance of eloquence was out of the picture as Tony gave him an ultimatum - he'd need to continue to be vocal or Tony would stop - and Steve knew then that he definitely didn't want that to happen. It was easier this time to let himself moan in pleasure as skilled fingers found that special place again and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

Fingers retreating and Steve had to adjust to the absence again. "I'm feeling like I want you to hurry up," he muttered, impatience and arousal a confusing mix to deal with.Then a slick hand was stroking up both their dicks, clearly Tony was as into this as he is which was very nice to know.

 _Can you feel how bad I want you?_ And Steve had a shiver travel down his spine because he _could_ feel it, Tony's cock hot and hard against his own and knowing that his boyfriend was being so incredibly patient with it all was both touching and infuriating.

Definitely infuriating right now because of that vexing touch at his hole, fingertips just tracing around the outer edge, coupled with Tony's hand moving up his erection. Steve shook with the effort it took to try and keep himself still - but it didn't last very long before he was simultaneously trying to arch into that hand and bear down on fingers, mostly unsuccessfully. "God, Tony," voice strangled, "I'm ready, I'm ready."

Hearing, _I want you begging for me,_ broke Steve and he groaned unabashedly. He was so wound up, sweat trickling down the side of his face, the blankets underneath him a mess from his grabbing and Steve gave in. " _Please, baby -- ahhh -- please Tony."_

* * *

_Like I want you to hurry up._

"God, Steve, shut up." Tony laughed, his chuckle hoarse and heavy with arousal. It was reassuring, however, to know how badly Steve wanted this; that it matched with his own feelings, and he wasn't in this alone. Not that he ever really suspected that he was, but the confirmation was still welcome.

He admired his boyfriend's shaking, the sweat that beaded on his forehead. "You're so fucking sexy." He breathed in response to his strangled voice and straining movements, rewarding him with the slightest insertion of two fingers, though e was quick to take that away again. He wanted to see how hard he could make him quiver before giving in and begging. Which he eventually came to; gripping the blankets, muscled body tense. Indulging him, Tony leant down for a kiss, purposefully prodding him with his cock as he did so.

"Yes, darling. There you go."

He breathed, breaking their lips. He leaned in to softly bite on his lip, humming. "Tell me if this hurts you. I'll stop, or slow down. Don't hesitate."

With that, he drew back a little. His hands moved under Steve's ass, lifting him up a bit, positioning him for a good, easy angle. "Hold that, love." He asked, wanting him to keep his hips up for now. He moved one hand onto his cock, positioning himself, before slowly beginning to thrust into him.

He was careful; maybe too much so, but he wanted this to be good, and easy. He paused once he'd pressed the head in, chest heaving as he looked down at his lover. "How's that?" He asked, scanning Steve's face. He didn't want to hurt him; he didn't want to scare him off. For now, he'd wait, until that begging came back.

* * *

It was finally happening, Tony was going to fuck him. The begging had done it, facilitated the advancement of their night, so, he'd beg again, because he too, wanted to rile up Tony. "Please, come on, Tony, stop treating me so gently," Steve urged, how could he explain that his tolerance for pain and discomfort was much better than a normal human? He couldn't, was the thing. Steve was being coddled, his hand held, being called _love_ and _darling_ \- and the tenderness was a beautiful thing, but not what he wanted in the moment, dick almost painfully hard and pre-come dripping down the side.

He held his hips up, bracing himself for the push in, biting down on his lip as he _felt_ the slippery silky smooth tip brush against his opening. It was then he remembered that he couldn't allow himself to hold back, not during this, so Steve shuddered out a " _whoa_ " when Tony edged forward, pressing his way inside, but then stopping prematurely.

The cock head buried in his ass was wider than the three fingers that had been used before, but Steve just breathed through it and his body, like it had before, grew used to it. "It's fine," Steve grit out, squirming and trying to get Tony to push all the way inside. His body would heal if there was any damage, but he was pretty sure they would be fine, copious amounts of lube had been used as well as a fair amount of time of prepping.

* * *

Steve seemed to be fine, and so Tony was beginning to trust him on his demand to stop treating him so gently. He wasn't wincing, nor did he seem uncomfortable, as his features were relaxed and beautiful. He could also sense the frustration rolling off of Steve in waves, as his reply was simply _it's fine_ rather than something more poetic or passionate like the lines he'd been spewing before.

"Easy, baby. Is that what you really want?"

With a bit of a shudder, Tony pressed deeper into him, moaning softly as he pushed himself into Steve until he couldn't go any farther. " _Fuck,_ you are _so tight..._ " Tony exclaimed, hips shuddering as he withdrew, only to thrust back again. He was careful to still be gentle, even if Steve demanded him to not be. He needed a few thrusts- slow and easy- before Tony obliged him in fucking him as hard as he wanted to be.

And oblige him he did. Without saying much about it, Tony picked up his speed, gasping as he set a steady pace for him. He was addicted to the sounds and the feelings given with each thrust that Steve absorbed- the knot in his stomach began to grow as he glanced down, noticing the precum leaking from the side of Steve's dick. It was encouraging for him, prompting him to deepen his thrusts, wanting to hit that same spot Steve had described as _too much._ "God, you're all worked up already, baby. How does it feel? Do you like me fucking you?"

* * *

"Yeah, 'course it's what I want," Steve mumbled back and then _ohmygodyesfinally_ , Tony pressed himself in further until their hips were touching and he could feel his boyfriend's sac right up against him. It was then he realized where the saying 'balls deep' came from and if he remembered it later, he'd have to tell Tony, knowing that the other man would surely be amused by it. He was completely filled with Tony's cock, a slight burning from the size adjustment, but it was still fine. More than fine. They were as connected as they could be, everything felt sharp and intense, but _perfect._ There was a exquisite tension to everything and it was engulfing Steve.

Tony was pulling back only to drive back in and Steve reached out to clasp onto his boyfriend's biceps, careful to not grasp too tightly. It took only a few moments of controlled thrusts before Tony really started giving it to him - pumping into him faster and Steve felt overwhelmed by the contrast of the quick actions and he allowed himself to moan and snap his hips up in time. "Worked up? It's your fault," Steve replied between groans. "Y-yeah, I.. I like it."  In the past, he hadn't ever talked that much when Tony was doing things _to him_ , so Steve felt a little flustered in being so vocal now.

* * *

"F-Fuck."

The word came out as a strangled moan; he was surprised by Steve's keenness to snap his hips back against him, driving Tony in deep as he thrust against him. Good, he was being vocal; moaning, talking back to him. It was cute. And he was clutching his biceps as if Tony were some kind of anchor, when in reality, Steve was Tony's anchor, and this was perfect, and-

He continued to thrust into him, body tense and sweaty as he thrust harder, jerking his cock into him with a bit of force behind it. He'd asked to not be gone easy on, so, Tony would give it to him. He moved one of his hands down, wrapping it around Steve's cock, jerking him off in time with his thrusts. "Good, fuck, baby, you're so good--" Tony moaned in response, leaning down to kiss him. "You're so good to me." The words came on a whisper, barely there as he broke their lips.

It was the truth. He loved him. And maybe it was lust or the strain in his stomach or the fact Steve was liking this, but, he hadn't felt it as intensely as he did now.

"I want to make love to you, Steve."

God, it was cheesy. He almost cringed as he said it. But he couldn't help but give Steve an explanation as to why his thrusts were slowing, why his hand moved from Steve's cock to the side of Steve's face, thumb running over his lip. His thrusts were slow, deep, maybe even thoughtful in their intention. "I want you to feel as good as you make me feel..." He spoke quietly, warm eyes flicking over his lover's face. There was still the part of him that wanted to fuck Steve until he was raw and pleading for Tony to go _easy_ again, but for now?

For now, this was theirs, and Tony wanted it to be more than just _fucking_ for Steve. He wanted it to be saying everything Tony couldn't say yet. He leant down, kissing down the side of Steve's face, tongue finding a lip, where he gently sucked. He rolled his hips smoothly, a stark contrast to the more jerking movements of before. "Do you like this, too?" He asked, voice a little less breathy, but still nonetheless strained. He wasn't working as hard, but damn, did Steve feel good around him- warm and tight.

* * *

He was taken back by Tony's admission, eyes widening in surprise, but then Steve felt it, saw it in Tony's eyes. _Love. Tony wanted to make love to him._

Yes, that's what they needed to do; that was more than alright with Steve. His heart clenched in his chest, emotion swelling up. God, the day had been such a rollercoaster of emotions for both of them. This shift to something tinged with more intimacy and feelings would be good for them on so many levels.

"Yeah, sweetheart, let's do that," Steve agreed, smiling beautifully up at Tony as his hands rubbed soothingly up the other man's arms. The pace was languid now, but still amazing. Each slow thrust was a delicious point of connection and Steve felt alive in a way he had never experienced before.

He made a soft amused sound at the question. "Of course I like this too - love _this_ \- love _you_ , Tony," Steve murmured, hands coming to cup his boyfriend's face and pull him down for another kiss, mouth moving slowly, savoring everything.

* * *

_Love._

God, he loved him. Every thrust was punctuated by that thought. He loved this man. He loved the way the lights shone on his face. The way he murmured his name, the way he caught his lips every time Tony leaned down to kiss him. It was all too overwhelming, and soon enough, he was feeling a familiar tightness in his stomach, telling him he was close- as much as he didn't want to be. He could have lasted forever, he wanted to stay like this. Just them. Nothing else. Nothing else that mattered, anyway.

Tony bent down to kiss him before he pulled out, thrusting deep into him one last time. His fingers went down, finding Steve's prostate, slowly stimulating him as Tony's own climax hit him hard. He came across Steve's pelvis and stomach, gasping as he streaked him in hot cum. "Fuck I--" Tony breathed. He couldn't. He couldn't bite his tongue any longer.

But at the same time, he had to. Saying the words opened the floodgates. Lessened his defenses; potentially allowed him to get hurt more than he would by anything Steve could confess to him. And so, he settled for a full, heady kiss instead, removing his fingers as he pushed Steve to cum, too.

* * *

He felt bared, completely open to Tony, eyes locked on a warm brown pair through every action, every shattering motion. In this moment, Steve was whole, didn't feel like a fragmented image of himself for once. It was a beautiful and powerful realization and he loved Tony all the more for being given this rare gift - to be able to experience it.

He wanted to commit all these details to memory - Tony's sounds, the way his sweaty hair stuck up, the flush of exertion on his face, the feel of their naked bodies pressed against each other's, and of course how his body accommodated the slide of Tony's sex into him. Under the twinkling lights, hidden away from the world in their fort, it was magical and Steve was slowly becoming undone.

Suddenly, things were changing, Tony's cock withdrawing, being replaced by searching fingers and Steve feels Tony's release spill onto him. Steve smiled, soft tone, "You're my saving grace" - words he had never uttered before, but thought of often. Steve didn't want to think of how his life would be without his lover. He would tell him the truth soon; he had to.

From experienced fingers and the conviction he felt, it didn't take long for Steve to come himself, muscles quivering, his own release mixing with Tony's.

* * *

Tony broke their lips as Steve came, taking a ragged breath as he watched the other's face. The glow of his reactor mixed with the glow of the lights, subduing their warmth for the blue-toned LEDs that emitted soft radiance from his chest. They played with Steve's features, sought the highs and accentuated the lows, encouraging Tony to leave soft, sweet kisses on his face; on each cheek, his forehead, his chin. And then Steve was gently praising him in the softest tone he'd ever heard the other man speak in, and Tony was breathless. He felt like he was being punched in the gut.

Never had he ever wanted to tell someone he loved them as much as he loved Steve. Those words were perfect and suiting and yet.. he couldn't say them. Not yet. He pressed his forehead to Steve's, giving a half frustrated sigh, the other half of exhaustion and sexual relief. He didn't know what to think half the time. "You have me on my knees, Steve." Tony spoke quietly, lifting his head to gaze back into his eyes. "I'll do anything for you, I adore you..." _I love you._

Withdrawing himself, Tony left the fort for a moment, only to return with a towel. While he was out, he'd looked at the structure in amusement and disbelief; that he'd taken Steve's man v-card in a fort they'd made in his living room. However, his tone was tender again as he wiped off Steve, then himself. A bit of readjusting had Tony on his back, pulling Steve over him, on top of him, his great body compressing Tony's into the cushions and blankets..

"Please, Steve." Tony begged, looking over his face. "I have to know. I have to.. understand... who you really are. It's hurting me, not knowing..."

* * *

Steve was in a daze, post-orgasm bliss settling into lazy limbs and he sighed because he could tell that things had indeed changed between them. Their first fight, their first lovemaking - from flying accusations to admissions of the sheer depth of their feelings - they could never go back to how things had been before. There would be no more tip toeing around blanks not filled in and Tony accepting the pathetic answers Steve has given.

He felt like after the fight Tony had laid his cards out on the table and now Steve had to show his hand - to show Tony himself. It was about time, wasn't it?

_I'll do anything for you, I adore you._

It _was_ time. Screw SHIELD.

Alone for a few minutes, Steve closed his eyes and tried to get his breathing under control, tried to get himself under control because this was happening, it really was. Steve was terrified by the possibility of Tony being angry at him for withholding such crucial information, but it couldn't be helped. He loved Tony and he wouldn't hide anymore. Couldn't hide because it wasn't fair or right.

After they were cleaned up and he mumbled a 'thank you', Steve was on top, laying in between legs and gazing down at the man who deserved the truth.

"So, let's say, I never had a motorcycle accident and my name isn't that ridiculous one on my ID," Steve began hesitantly, hands brushing through Tony's damp hair. "And there's a real good reason why I suck with technology too." He pressed a kiss to the tip of Tony' forehead, taking a deep breath, preparing to deliver what would be the kicker. "My real name is Steven Grant Rogers and I was born in 1918...  but better known to the masses as Captain America... Surprise?"

* * *

Tony ran one of his hands down Steve's back, feeling the musculature there. Next time he'd have Steve pick him up, maybe. Hold him against a wall. Against one of the windows, here, this time. There was a lot of possibilities for the both of them.. possibilities Tony wanted to take one by one.

He listened to Steve as he spoke, biting the inside of his cheek as he started. So, no accident? Not the right name? God. Tony glanced over Steve's face nervously, sighing through his nose. "You're Amish." He spoke as Steve kissed his forehead. "See, I knew it." However, the joke was mostly out of nervousness. What was he hiding? Could he-

_Oh._

First came a feeling of intense disbelief. Steve was crazy. Steve was legitimately a lunatic stuck in another era and Tony had just fucked him. Second came a feeling of surprise, as, _REALLY? CAPTAIN AMERICA?_ Third came a wave of confusion and the openness to hearing him out, as if Tony Stark could exist as he did, maybe Steve- Steve-

No. He couldn't take this for face value.

"S-Steve." Tony stammered, eyes widening. No way. There was no way in hell he'd just made love to, and fallen in love with, his childhood hero. "Steve, you're not serious, are you? You... How? Captain America died in the ice. I know because my dad spent every last second of his life looking for him. There was no part of the Arctic left unexplored, my dad-" Tony shook his head. "-It doesn't make sense. How do I.. What?" The shock was a lot to process. _This_ was a lot to process. "How do I know you're not just.. like, hallucinating really bad? Do you know about Nick Fury? SHIELD? I can't..." He blinked, biting his tongue. "Steve, I.. I never..." A pause. "Are you telling me I've been with... _Captain America_ ... this _whole_ time?"

* * *

  _Amish_. Heh. If only... That would probably be less of a surprise than what he was going to deliver. Tony's face went through varying expressions once he did get out the necessary bits of information, but one reaction he didn't see was anger, at least not yet, and for that, Steve was infinitely grateful. If either one of them did get upset, the blanket fort probably wouldn't last, that was for sure. When he had thought of this scenario taking place, it wouldn't have been underneath a makeshift sleeping area, but here they were anyway.

"SHIELD found me, they set me up with everything. I was frozen in the ice," Steve started into the explanation, trying to get through it as neatly as possible. "That's how I survived. They managed to thaw me and with the serum, well, turns out I can survive being an icicle for over half a century." He gave a sheepish smile. It felt more than a little strange to be sharing this all, but there was also a great deal of relief that came with it. He'd only talked to the professionals, of course, but Steve he didn't want to really share his thoughts and feelings with people who were _paid_ to be interested in him.

"And you've been with _me_ this whole time," he stated. "Don't have my shield or uniform... so just Steve."

* * *

Tony's eyes flicked over Steve's face in concern. So many thoughts chased one another in his head- and still, a huge part of him remained in disbelief. How was it possible? Here was this man who his father had adored, yearned for, searched for, and he was in Tony's arms. It was weird, but the universe was weird, right? He opened his mouth and closed it again, at a complete loss for words.

It made sense. The lack of knowledge of technology. The old-school apartment. Steve's occasional wonder when Tony sent him gifs or pictures or videos. The way Steve seemed to be.. not of this world. Like an alien, but really, he was just a man misplaced in time.

"Going steady."

Those words were the first out of his mouth after Steve spoke. Tony laughed incredulously, tipping his head back, exposing his neck. "Going steady, I-" He was cut off by more dry laughter, draping a wrist over his eyes. "I should have known when you asked me to... go steady... and complained about _not_ going steady before we--" He rolled his wrist off his eyes, peering at his boyfriend. "Only _Captain America_ would have thought of asking someone to _go steady_ in this day and age."

He lifted himself up, out from under Steve, into a sitting position. He crossed his legs loosely, gazing over Steve's face. "God, it makes sense, Steve, but I can't believe it. You.." He breathed through his nose. ".. You were one of my dad's greatest successes, he was so proud of you, he never shut up about you or trying to find you and--" He shook his head, breathing deeply. Tears were welling at the corners of his eyes, from how overwhelmed he was. It was a lot to take in. A lot of mixed emotions. A weird nostalgia. Maybe some regret for how he'd spoke to him or treated him in the past. "Steve, I.. You're the love of my life. I love you so--" He looked away, wiping at his eyes, trying to hide the emotion that these words brought out of him. "S-So much, Steve. I just can't believe _My Steve_  is also _The Steve_ and _The Steve_ loves me, too.."

Biting his lip, Tony shook his head, trying to get the tears to dry. He didn't like crying, and he wasn't about to do so in front of Steve. "Steve, baby, can we go- have a drink?" He asked, voice tight. "I mean, I gotta.. test.." He laughed to himself. "My dad regretted making you so impenetrable that you couldn't get drunk. So, I guess it's a test, too. I'm going to try to get you drunk now, and I'm going to get a little drunk, and you can tell me stories about your life because my head's spinning so hard I can't think of anything decent to say."

* * *

Tony seemed to be at a loss for words, staring at him, mouth opening but no words coming out. Still, Steve was relieved he wasn't receiving a slap for his grand reveal. He could almost see the wheels turning in Tony's head, his boyfriend going over the past few months, pouring over the data of all of Steve' s idiosyncrasies and hopefully connecting them with the truth.

The memory of Steve bringing up 'going steady' served as a tipping point as Tony broke out into laughter. Steve couldn't help but grin and let out a few chuckles himself. He hadn't thought it was that _most_ obtuse thing ever said, but Tony apparently had latched onto it as a point of interest.

At the mention of Howard yet _again_ , Steve's smile fell and he swallowed past a lump as he joined Tony into a sitting position. He grabbed the nearest blanket and pulled it over their laps. Howard's greatest success? God, that put a lot of weight on him, especially since he was doing literally _nothing_ other than living a comfy civilian life, mostly in thanks to Tony's generosity and company.

While Tony may have looked away when he finally said _it_ to Steve, the blonde didn't miss the words. His heart swelled and it was perfect. Tony now _knew_ the real him, _loved_ him and Steve's nerves settled, but then Tony was moving onto wanting a _drink_ and... Was that really the best idea given the earlier events? It took a great deal of effort to not frown and immediately shut down the idea. Sure, some of it was Tony's scientific mind wanting to see the evidence of the serum at work, but Steve still didn't feel thrilled by the idea.

"Sure, alright. I'll be your lab rat, but only because it's for you," Steve agreed, the words bitter on his tongue as he made to crawl out of their fort.

* * *

His fingers and toes felt numb as he began to move out of the fort, grabbing his pyjama pants on the way. He pulled them on, exiting the fort first, having a bit of a think as he walked toward the bar.

All of this was brutally overwhelming- how was it that the man he had a poster of on his bedroom ceiling was now the man lying next to him? Remaining next to him? _The love of his life_. That’s what Tony thought he was, anyway. He had a piss poor measure of love- thanks to his own ill experiences with old flames- but this was the most he’d ever felt for anyone. When he looked at Steve, he saw a future; it was murky with uncertainty, but it remained bright. Steve was a beacon to him. He’d always been a symbol of hope, but now? He was his own dogma, his own—

He pulled himself out of his head as he approached the bar. Alcohol made things clear again, or at least he thought it would.

“Alright, babe. What’s your order?” He asked. “Mmm, actually, here we go. I’ll get you some fine whiskey-“ He pulled an old-looking bottle out from behind the bar, as well as two glasses. “Four fingers, ‘cause we’ve had one hell of a day.” He spoke, passing Steve a glass. “And a toast.” Lifting his glass, Tony poised it to clink against Steve’s, before stopping shortly.

“To me- dating a relic. And to you- dating the future. And to us- together- for as long as we possibly can tolerate one another.”

There. No truer words were spoken, today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About time, huh! Comments? Thoughts? =)


End file.
